Out of Hand
by LoweFantasy
Summary: Sequel to Out of Reach BUT CAN BE READ ON ITS OWN. A new semester, a new case, and Mai is ready to go. But she gives herself too much credit and the paranormal too little. Will she be able to live through the church aching of injustices and fear, or will someone else have to pull her out of it? And what does a Buddhist wanting to date her have to do with it?
1. I'm Okay with Being Stupid

Out of Hand

By Lowefantasy

Sequel to 'Out of Reach'

1

" _Again, I come to the blank page because I've reached the bottom and the only thing that seems to whisper any light to me are the stories. But I'm a little afraid. Afraid that I'm not strong enough. And afraid of what will come out."_

Per my parapsychology professor's suggestion, I got a word calendar.

Course, it didn't do much for me. He still rounded on me when I entered my first report of the Spring semester with all the fine, cold, icy glare of the Winter Queen's personal executioner.

"Just because you use big words or found a thesaurus doesn't mean you sound smart. In fact, it makes you look stupider than ever."

Wow. Thanks.

But, since I had gotten closer to said iceman in Fall semester, I also knew I could push the envelope with an innocent smile and a snide comment.

"You did tell me to get a word calendar."

"And you're abusing it," he said.

I knew, without looking, that a few of the kids behind me were exchanging looks. They probably thought I was suicidal to mess around with the professor of death (literally, he was a ghost hunter). And a few probably thought it was simply a sign of my Texas-sized crush (which I'm not going to talk about). But it wasn't like I was all that caring of what other people thought in the first place. After all, they hadn't seen someone attempt suicide or peeled all the skin of their arms.

Yes, my arms were still healing from that. Though the bandages had been lightened to merely putting a barrier between my sensitive, stitched up skin and anything abrasive, I still found them itching and throbbing at inopportune times.

Like while I was trying to look cool and unfazed while my professor rolled his eyes.

"Well, you don't have to use every word in the calendar the first chance you get," he said, with a tone of exasperation he kept for the special stupid. "One or two, then ditch it. For heaven's sake, I'm not going to dock you a whole grade because you use the word 'spiritual' more than once. Anyways, on to the next report. Ah, Takigawa. Yours was especially painful. I'm surprised you're here, seeing as you have no interest in pursuing this as a career."

Takigawa, a charismatic dirty blond with a laid-back, friendly attitude, smiled sheepishly, but not before giving me a little wink.

"Well, prof, I was just so enlightened—"

"Don't go winking at girls like you think it's cool to look stupid," snapped Professor Davis, his gaze somehow colder than before. "For one," he clicked the remote in his hand and another essay flashed up on the projector display. "What kind of academic title is 'When I saw ghosts'? This isn't the high school essay on what you did over the summer, but apparently, you must have missed that." Naru turned to the first paragraph of the essay and started to read.

" _Last October, I had the most freaky experience yet. I saw a ghost. And it was hanging itself from a banister, how creepy is that?"_ He gave Takigawa a droll stare.

"Hey, I'm a music major, not an English major," he said, hands up in defense and everything.

"I thought you lot were required to pass English 1010 and 2010 in order to graduate or even take this class," he said. "But I'm wasting time. D, Takigawa."

Takigawa didn't quite wilt at that. He just smiled and nodded. Though I guess it did make sense. As a music major, his chances for graduation weren't exactly impeded much by a grade he got in an extracurricular class.

I, on the other hand, was a parapsychology major. One of maybe a dozen in my year, and thus, in this class. I heard the year below me, filled with freshmen ranging on sophomores, had much more, but since I had already finished all my preliminary classes, I didn't get much interaction with them.

Though that didn't help my case much that I had gotten a C+. Which was a crying shame, because I think it at least deserved a B. I didn't procrastinate it or anything. Not even a Monster energy drink involved.

He went quickly through our reports, showing points that he liked or especially up to date writing skill, as well as picking out an equal amount of faults. One might think he was being emotionally and mentally abusive to us all, but since we all got a turn on the wall of shame and sometimes praise, it was a group effort on our part. Besides, we really did learn a lot.

Almost as though he timed himself, he finished the last report just as the clock hit 1:50.

"We will be beginning a new section on Monday," he said. "I'd appreciate it if you would skim over the next few cases, starting on page 145, before then so we don't have to waste time storytelling. Pleasant weekend."

Because saying the complete 'have a pleasant weekend' was far too much effort to spend on us plebs.

The moment we started getting up, Takigawa swaggered over to me, all beach boy grin.

"Had lunch yet?" he asked.

"Like I could survive this class if I didn't," I said. "Oh, sweet sweet Taco Bell."

"Yeah, I'm kind of missing the seven and eleven morning classes myself. So, what you got next?"

"I'm actually done for the day," I swung my book bag over my shoulder. "What about you?"

"Math 2030," he wrinkled his nose. "They say those who are good at music are also good at math, but that's a lie. I'm freaking Elvis Presley and Math is like speaking Spanish to me."

"Whew, be careful, you almost sounded full of yourself there."

"Confidence, Mai. Confidence is key."

"Whatever." I plucked at my cell phone to see if Ayako had texted me. She had. We had plans to learn how to make cake pops tonight and then deep clean the kitchen.

"I've got, like, 45 minutes until class starts, though. You wanna hang out till then?"

"I actually need to pick up some cake batter," I said, sliding my phone back into my pocket. "If you walk to the store with me, you won't make it back in time for class."

He deflated. "You're making a treat and I have to go to Math hell?"

"Hey, I'll make some for you to have when you're done. You can drop by to pick them up."

That did not make him happier. "Will your roommate be there?"

Inward sigh. Please, people, let's be adults for once in our life. "She's helping me make them."

He considered this for a moment as we walked out of the lecture hall together. We had only gone a few steps when Professor Davis's voice stopped me.

"Mai Taniyama, a word, if you will."

Takigawa turned to meet the professors gaze head-on, even as I skipped my way over.

"Not having inappropriate relationships with your students, now, are you?" he asked, all casual, all light.

Professor Davis's sharp, handsome dark eyes darkened. "No respectable adult would ask that of someone in the middle of a hallway. Keep up your attitude and I'll flunk you for good."

"Ooo, scary. The 'F' of pain."

"If it's low enough it can drop your GPA by two whole points. I wouldn't be acting so cocky."

Takigawa did seem to reconsider at that and left without another word, though the look on his face couldn't be called pleasant.

"What's up, Naru?" I asked, coining the random nickname I'd come up for him last semester, as I thought, at the time, it fit his narcissistic, devilish attitude.

"There's a church I'd like you to feel out over the weekend," he pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to me. "I've been hired to take a look into recent disturbances there and would like to get your opinion on it."

I looked skeptically at the little white square. "You know that means I'd have to take a nap there."

"You get impressions without falling asleep, but if you do manage that, all the better."

I sighed. "Don't you have, I dunno, psyki colleagues who could do this?"

He gave me a thin, straight-lipped smile, the only kind he gave outside of the very, very rare little grin, which I had only seen once so far.

"Psyki colleagues that have lives," he said.

Oo. Low blow. Saying I don't have a life.

I stopped myself from saying 'excuse me' just in time.

"Just so you know," I said with the best haughty sniff I could manage. "I'm having a cake pop party tonight and its super, super serious."

He snorted, and for a moment I thought his straight-line mouth might actually curve up. But my heart skipped a beat for nothing.

"Then I guess you'll have to do it Saturday or Sunday," he said. "I hear naps during church services are the best kind you can get."

"Oh, hardy har har. This isn't going to need a car to get to, is it? Because, oh sigh, poor little ol' me—"

"You can take the bus." He blinked. "Unless you find yourself far too weak to walk the four blocks left after the stop—"

From around the corner, a not quite soft little "oooooooooh!" sounded, and I recognized the sleeve of the green jacket Takigawa was wearing poking out. I looked to the ceiling, while the Professor just sighed, all signs of his straight smile gone.

"Bloody children," he muttered under his breath.

Which got me thinking, "Just how old are you? Twenty-eight?"

"Twenty-six," he said, "but age has nothing to do with it. Please get him out of this building before I sink to his level."

"Hey!" snapped Takigawa.

"Sure thing, sir," I saluted.

"And don't do that."

"No can do, sir!"

Another sigh, the long, exasperated one he saved just for my brand of silliness.

"See you Monday."

With that, we parted ways, and I caught up to the belligerent music major hiding around the corner at the end of the hall.

"Dude, seriously?" I asked.

He just grinned at me, his wide, toothy smile so unlike our Professor's straight lines. "Need a ride to the church tomorrow?"

"You are being way too charitable."

"You can pay me back with a date."

"And you should take me seriously when I say I have baggage you don't want to deal with."

His expression fell serious as he held open the science building's east door for me and out into the chill January air.

"And I'd really like to decide that for myself."

I sighed, not unlike the Professor had done for me, and stepped out into the snow and ice.


	2. The Unholy Chapel

**I'm sorry for disappearing! I got pregnant and when I'm pregnant the hormones put my anxiety on steroids. It was bad. Almost got admitted to the psyche ward and spent a lot of time at my mom's house because I wanted to die so bad and could hardly function and was so sick. But after getting on a buttload more meds from the psychiatrist and moving down south to get more sun (I couldn't handle the windowless basement we were in, I was terrified of it), I've finally come to a stable enough level to write again! Though, this is why I have waited so long to have a second child. It makes me afraid of eating, of drinking, of the dark, of moving...of basically being alive.**

 **I hope my baby makes it through this barrage of medication. It's the only way I'm surviving right now.**

2

" _It's scary, this hole. I feel like I'm dying—like I'm terminally ill with cancer and I'm going to puke myself to death, or all my insides will turn inside out. But, the truth is, I'm fine. I'm healthy. I'm strong. But my mind doesn't seem to register that. To it, I am dying, and I'll always be dying, except without the release of actual death. I remember happy times, but I cannot feel them. I see the logic of eventual relief, but don't feel the hope. I tell myself comforting truths, but they're as good as lies."_

Cake pops were actually remarkably easy to make.

"I'm never paying five bucks for one again," I said, as I drizzled melted white chocolate over the ball of icing and cake. A paper stick, which I found a bag of in the craft section of Walmart, had been stabbed into its middle.

"Aren't they more like three at Starbucks?" asked Ayako, who was stirring another tiny pot of white chocolate which she had stirred in some blue food coloring into.

"I don't know, I only buy one when I want to induce diabetes in myself," I moved to the next, partially frozen chocolate all and drizzled. "Which isn't that often."

"They do have that taste…and it's wonderful."

I nodded to that, grinning as my drizzling turned out into something like a gourmet food art, at least, for me.

"You wanna cook up that meat in the freezer for dinner so we have room for the pops?" she asked.

"Only if you'll let me make sloppy joes."

She groaned. "Fine. Might as well through caution to the wind."

"Hey! We're making cake pops! It isn't exactly skinny night."

"Exactly my point," she said.

So, I got around to cooking up some Sloppy Joes—another easy recipe, as all that was required were hamburger buns (or sliced bread, since, hey, we're college students), cooked ground beef, and a can of Manwich sauce. Freaking Boyardee in the making, man, right here. And oh so good.

I mentioned to her that Takigawa would be dropping by to pick some up. To my relief, she didn't react as negatively as Takigawa. She just said 'good. There will be less pops to tempt me,' and continued her drizzling administrations, which, sadly, were about as good as mine. And I thought I had a chance at being pro.

Seriously, though: a box of cooked cake batter, can of icing, mix with your fingers, make balls out of them, stab them with sticks and freeze them, then dip'm in chocolate and viola! Easy as, well, cake!

Downside was, I had nibbled so much that by the time all was said and done, I was almost too queasy to eat the Manwich. But Manwich I did!

Somewhere in all of this, Ayako got around to peeking down at the address to the chuch and looking it up on Google maps.

"Ah, I know this church," she said. "Definitely old enough to have the creepy vibe, but it always looked so beautiful to me."

I peeked over her shoulder. "It has stained glass windows and everything. Dang, they do tours of the place?"

"It does have a history," she said, seeming not to notice her fingers plucking up a half done cake pop into her mouth.

Just then, Takigawa dropped by to take his share of cake pops. He left before too big of an argument could start between Ayako and him, and the evening ended on a rather well-fed, happy note.

Saturday dawned with clear skies and blearily bright sunlight bouncing off every pane of glass and snow bank. I donned some cheap pink sunglasses I usually wore in the summer and headed out to the bus stop. I only took the buss on rare occasions, as most of my needs, such as the grocery store, were within walking distance of the college. But I knew enough to find the schedule and pick the stop closest to my destination.

The church ended up being a lot bigger in person than it had looked in the photos.

"Cool," I murmured as I traced the intricately decorated eaves and…whatever fancy names they have for the roof and all the stuff holding it up. Hey, it wasn't in my word calendar.

Of course, even as I approached the doors, I couldn't help but evaluate my own beliefs. I did believe in a God, or, at least, something higher than me waiting where I couldn't see. But so many people and religions had differing ideas on what God wanted, let alone what God _was_ , for me to comfortable make a decisions on what was true. I also didn't think it would be a good idea for me to make up my own beliefs off of someone or something that I really didn't know, so mostly I just drifted along with the comforting thought that at least there was something and I wasn't a mistake.

Still, I tried not to think about it just like I tried not to think about how much I liked my Ice-executioner professor. Both of those trains headed nowhere.

To my surprise, a young man came out to meet me, dressed in what I could only think of as 'priestly robes,' even though he looked a bit too young to be called 'Father', at most my age and possibly still in High School. Why were they called 'Father' anyways? A question to google later.

"Pardon, but could you be Mai Taniyama?" he asked with a cherubic smile—as cherubic it could only be with his smooth, lightly freckled, boyish face. He even had a styled mop of blond hair a few shades lighter than Takigawa's blond.

Maybe he was an alter boy?

"Yeah, that's me. Did my professor call ahead?"

"Yes. He asked me to excuse you if you should fall asleep in the pews, as it was part of how your clairvoyance worked. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?"

I felt myself twitch. This was a church, not a freaking hotel.

"If I'm lucky, I'll try not to sleep at all," I said, though I had gotten up early just in case to make myself sleepier. "It's probably best you not tell me any details of what's going on so I don't get any false impressions."

The boyish priest bobbed his head. "Yes, of course, Doctor Davis said something along those lines as well. I didn't know when you would come so we have a few parishioners praying inside, I hope that won't be a problem."

"Not that I know of. As long as they're quiet."

He gave a funny sort of wry grin. "And that they will be."

He walked with me into the arching, double doors and into the soaring ceiling and buttresses inside. The amount of care and detail, though I had seen pictures, astounded me even more in person. The stained glass windows painted figures of rainbow across the polished floors and over the pine wood pews. A few candles burned near the front at an elaborate alter to a rather large, detailed depiction of Jesus hanging on the cross. Poor bloke looked like a holocaust victim. Did they starve him near to death before crucifying him? Either way, I'd have a hard time feeling worthy of anything with that emaciated figure hanging over me.

"Go wherever you like," said the boy-priest. "The only places I would ask that you tread most lightly are the confession boxes as well as the area behind the alter and before the table where sacrament is prepared. It's the flat area covered with a red cloth on the right side. Oh, pardon me," he lifted out his hand to me. "Just call me Father Brown. I promise I only look young."

I shook that hand. "No point in me introducing myself. I'm just Mai getting a feel of the place before the Prof sends in the cavalry."

That made the priest smile.

He left it to me to do, well, what I wasn't quite sure, as I didn't know all that much about the Catholic Church. I found a bench far away from the lone three souls there and tried out the smooth, worn benches. I found them to be surprisingly comfortable, even without any sigh of cushions. The curve of the wood fit my back perfectly, as though the years of bodies that had sat in it had molded it.

Usually, when one entered in on a case, the ghost hunter in charge would send whatever clairvoyant or spiritual people they had on hand out first, without telling them details of the case, to see what their general impressions were. Since I had been just a newb student who didn't really know she had clairvoyant powers, let alone how to use them, the last time and first time I was allowed onto a case, the Prof hadn't sent me to Los Angelos before the rest of us. Would have been a waste of money anyways, given my lack of experience and his love of carpooling. The fact that he was trusting me enough to send me out ahead on my own, just like a real pro, gave me no end of happy squirms. I'm a big kid now.

It wasn't long before the ambivalent, quiet atmosphere got me yawning. I took in the art, the high arching ceilings, the stained glass windows, and couldn't help but be in awe. All this splendor as a form of physical worship to a God none knew for sure even existed. To most, that would seem sad, maybe even pointless. But to me it was a tribute to hope that we are worth more than an accidental rub of atoms. A hope that there was more to being human than breathing, sex, and food.

Which also connected back to the basis of my parapsychology studies. Religion was never ignored when it came to studying spirits, the afterlife, or even the existence of psychic abilities in general. Religion was part of being human. It shaped our perception of ourselves and the world and, inevitably, our continuing existence after this life.

Which got me wondering if I was a Christian or not.

"I just don't know," I whispered to a praying, stone saint in the corner. "I know there's something, but I just can't…"

A hot-cold chill prickling up my spine cut me off.

I twisted my head around, searching for anything off, straining my senses for cold spots—anything. But all I saw were the same three parishioners, heads bowed, though one had looked up to the hanging crucifix above the alter. There was nothing out of the ordinary about him. He was thinning on top, but his brown beard was thick and may or may not have been groomed. From the distance I was at, I couldn't tell, nor could I make out his expression behind his rather old-fashioned glasses, the kind that was one of the big fashion mistakes of the 80s or 90s. The other two were women in varying old ages, one in a cat t-shirt and one dressed in a flowery, Sunday dress. Both had graying hair.

"Do you feel that?"

I jumped so high the whole bench creaked as Father Brown appeared at the end of the pew besides me. He gave me a small, apologetic smile.

"Yeah," I said, looking back over the church and three person congregation. The windows were still as beautiful. The statues just as they were, eyes closed, praying, or reaching to angels near the ceiling. The sunlight glowed as bright as ever against the marble floors, and yet I couldn't shake off the impression that the whole room just got a little bit darker.

"If you wait, though," he said, his voice still a low whisper. "It will pass. May I sit?"

I scooted over and he took the seat next to me, bringing with him the smell of incense and cedar wood perfume, the kind you found in old cedar chests and jewelry boxes.

And beneath it all…Old Spice shampoo?

We said nothing, as I was too busy keeping my ears and imagined psychic rabbit ears perked. A large clock in the square outside donged the twelfth hour and the three parishioners got up, only nodding their heads to each other as any sign of communication, before heading out a varying speeds. Some colored light from the window bounced off the silver curls of the flower dress lady and the gleaming spot on the man's head.

And then, as soon as it had come, the feeling left. Though visibly I could make out no signs, the room did seem to feel lighter, though in a wounded, relieved sort of way. I paused to try and make sense of that thought of mine. Churches and rooms didn't get 'wounded' or relieved. So why were those the words that popped to my mind.

"It comes at varying times," said Father Brown, his hands folded in his lap, young face back lighted by the sun bouncing off the marble floors.

"Is that the only thing?" I asked.

He shook his head, and his lips pressed thin. "I've also…hear voices when the chapel is empty, and…is it alright to tell you these things?"

I double checked myself. "Probably not. I'm suppose to experience for myself and all. Sorry for asking. Kind of new at this…"

He nodded as though he understood, and maybe he did, as young a priest as he was.

"I fear there is some malevolent spirit corrupting the peace of this chapel," he said.

"Then why just exorcise it?" I paused. "You…do that sort of thing, right?"

"Exorcising a church is no easy feat," he said, golden brows knitted. "Church are sacred, consecrated ground. Dark spirits aren't even suppose to be able to be in here. The blessings put into its foundation and its very walls are all made to protect those inside from anything insidious that may want it." He hesitated. "At least spiritually."

"Is that why the walls are made of thick stone?" I asked.

"Huh?"

"So it's like a fortress. Symbolically."

He blinked. "I've…never thought of it that way. But yes. That is the idea behind the Church. Where those wounded by sins may find safety and healing. If there is something malicious in nature coming inside," he shook his head. "I wouldn't know where to begin. I'm not authorized to renew the consecration of the foundation stones or the walls. And unless we know how it entered in the first place, there'd be no point to reconsecration. It would just come back in."

"What kind of things can get past that sort of thing?"

His expression, thin mouth, furrowed brow, darkened. "Only the strongest of demons."

A shiver ran up my spine.

"Those exist?" I asked, feeling stupid just as I asked it.

He shrugged, to my surprise. "If angels and spirits exist, so do demons by default. All things must have their opposite to exist."

I took a minute to think over what he said. Deep stuff like that took consideration, you know. Everything had its opposite or else it couldn't exist—white without black, cold without hot, etc.

"So…are demons like, you know, horned hooved monsters or something?" I asked, rather nervously. I was in the parapsychology business. Anything was possible.

This broke his dark face with a laugh. "Those sorts of images were mostly symbolic to help the old world pagans understand, but no. Demons are people, or spiritual beings as you may call them."

"You've seen them?"

"Not precisely. But I have had to exorcise two during my mission in Southern Brazil." He shook his head. "Black magic is the real deal down there. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to try and scare you, if I did. You probably think I'm silly."

I shook my head. "No. The Professor has a class specifically for that sort of stuff." I gave a little smile of my own. "Only happens in fall semester, though, and only for upper class majors. No one who isn't serious about parapsychology can go."

"And he is very right to do that," he said, rising and side-stepping his way from the bench. "I'll stop distracting you from your observations now. Please take as long as you need to."

But as he walked away towards the alter to do who knows what, I figured I probably had enough to give Naru something to think about.

As I left the Church, I saw that the man had stopped to converse with the older woman in the cat t-shirt. Both wore smiles and seemed to be talking about the irony of a headquarters for Scientology being down the street.

Wondering if this was their lunch hour or if they even had jobs, I gave one last look to the looming spires and arches of the chapel and started on my way to the train stop.


	3. The Depthy Depths of the Castle

**Thank you for the well wishes on my pregnancy. ^.^ And as for the quotes, they come from me and my own experiences. I'm kind of unsure about telling you that, since I don't want you to feel jaded, but it's honestly what I've come to know. And thank you for reading and offering your support. You're too kind.**

3

" _A lot of people attribute their survival through suicide, depression, or general trials to God, of one form or another. Whether it's in just a trick of their brains they're unconsciously tripping on or if God really is reaching down to lift them through the pain can only be said by the one who experiences it. There is no evidence against it, but there is evidence in the simple fact that those certain souls are alive and happy, for whatever reason that may be."_

No. I didn't get a pat on the head for my report. Professor Davis just read it then and there, nodded, and dropped it on his desk.

"I trust Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday afternoon are free?"

"Assume ye much?" Yeah, I was totally free. Some college life I had. All my classes were in the morning on Tuesdays and Thursdays and Monday just happened to be some stupid presidential holiday. Milk day?

"Make them free," he pulled out a pen and a little black book, probably a planner.

"And what do I get out of this?"

Ah, there it was. The droll 'are you stupid?' stare.

"Experience in your job field, or are you not planning on doing anything with your parapsychology degree?"

"Well, I was considering getting some awesome shades and a crystal ball or something. Haven't figured out how to make it show anything though, a projector under the table seems too tacky."

He sighed the long, exasperated sigh. "I'll see you tomorrow at 9am in the parking lot behind the building. I can give you a ride over in the van."

"Ooo, the blackety black _black_ van."

"Why do you keep saying that? Did you hear it from a comedian or something, because it's not very funny."

"Nah. It just matches you." I grinned and flicked my fingers at him. "Blackety black."

"Get out of my office."

Which left me with the rest of Saturday to catch up on some cleaning work in the maintenance room of the old science building and some late night homework touch ups. Oh, and another cake pop. Diabetus.

I woke up with exactly ten minutes to go until 9, so if I had been planning to do any dolling up to attempt to wowza my good looking professor, too bad for me. But then again I didn't think a plain thing like me could impress Naru even if I wanted to. Impressing him with anything, whether it be girls or essays, was nigh impossible.

But I did make it in time at 9 with a granola bar in my mouth and still combing my hair. My shirt and jeans I had just picked up off the floor and wore because they didn't smell to bad or looked to wrinkled.

The way his nose scrunched up on seeing me made me think his sharp mind could already infer all of that.

The absence of Lin, his tall assistant, made the black van that could kidnap 26 rape victims look positively huge. Well, huger than normal.

"You didn't pack lunch, did you?"

I blinked prettily even as I bit and took out the granola bar in my mouth to chew.

"What? You don't want to feed me?" I asked around oats and almonds.

"Chew with your mouth closed."

"Nom nom nom nom."

"I can take you to lunch!" came from inside the van.

The passenger side of the vehicle opened and Takigawa stuck out his head, looking just a bit better groomed than me.

I swallowed and gawked at him. "Could you give it a rest? You aren't going to get anything from me no matter how much food you put down the hatchet."

"And why, pray tell?"

"Because I have issues!"

Takigawa snorted. "Not enough."

Meanwhile, Professor Davis pinched the rim of his nose. "Thank god it's only you two I have to deal with."

Yes, Ayako wasn't coming, for one reason or another. The Prof and said we needed an extra set of muscles to help us put base together, and since this was a case in a religious area, may as well bring our resident Buddhist monk who knows a bit more what he is doing ghost hunting than the average muscle head on the street.

Naru didn't waste any time ushering me into the van and slipping into the driver's seat. Inside it was as crowded as ever with totes and computer monitors. The one bench they let up was still there, and I happily took as much room on it as possible, having been squished in the middle the last time I had been there.

Takigawa twisted about in his seat to look at me. "Now, I know you're not lesbian—"

How, I didn't need to know.

"—and I know you don't think I'm ugly—wait, is it the friend zone? Have you friend zoned me?"

"No," I moaned, sliding my hands down my now heated face. "Dude friends make the best boyfriends anyways, everyone knows that."

"Then why not make it official date? You get free food, maybe some sparkling juice, and just try me out?"

"Because I don't want to hurt your feelings, you're not some car to test drive."

A funny little grin crossed his face. "I could be."

I covered my face again. I didn't need to hear that or get those images.

Though, he had a point. Why didn't I try and date him? Yeah, I had baggage, but he had already made it clear that he wanted to be the one to decide whether he wanted to deal with it or not. Maybe I was afraid I'd get all invested in him before he decided that?

Behind my hands, I looked in the direction where I thought was the driver's seat.

No. It couldn't be because of my crush on the professor. Naru would never reciprocate. And I guess it wouldn't be completely unfair if I made it clear to Takigawa that I only had friendly feelings towards him—though I suspected he had already gotten that.

I sighed and lowered my hands. "Fine. One date."

Just as Takigawa fist pumped, our professor glanced at me in his rearview mirror.

"And neither of you are going to bother to ask if you'll have time to do such things? We're on a case, not a joy trip."

Takigawa pouted at him. "Aw, come on, it will be a little one. Just for lunch. Itsy bitsy."

"I also need Mai for her clairvoyance."

"Yeah, but that's mostly when she's just asleep, right? I'll get her pasta or something so she'll fall into a carb coma when we get back. Free nap for you."

Naru groaned irritably. "Fine, you get an hour. And please nothing graphic while we're at the church."

I was slightly offended by that. "One date doesn't mean I'm going to go at it in a pew, _Naru."_

I got the minute flinch that I wanted from using his nickname.

Takigawa just looked forward, keeping his face straight and not saying a word.

"Could have fooled me," muttered Naru. "Isn't that what college students do? Rut around like animals?"

The heat went straight up and out my ears. "I'm not an animal! Nor do I—uck-freak, what got up your sphincter this time?"

"He's jelly and horny," said Takigawa with the smallest of smiles.

The Prof actually slapped him across the head for that comment. Lucky for Takigawa, the beating didn't continue as we weren't at a stop light and had to deal with Saturday morning traffic. Not that it had been all that hard of a slap to begin with, though Takigawa rolled with it like it had been an attempt at 2nd degree murder.

"Do you always react this violently?" When Naru said nothing, Takigawa kept going. "Look, it's okay, you're a man and not even all that old at that, it's completely natural to want some…action in the sheets. In fact, you should. It's healthy."

"Please stop talking."

"Yes, please, I am still here," I said, not enjoying this topic at all. No matter what Naru said about college students, I wasn't _that_ kind of college student. I'd never even kissed someone before, forget going all the way to home base. Besides, I didn't want to get there until I was positive that man was glued in place and not going anywhere, mainly with marriage. Give me your soul and I'll give you my flesh. That sort of deal.

….Like I said, I had issues, namely abandonment complex. Or was it separation anxiety?

Fortunately, Takigawa did change the subject and we made it to the church with the professor not completely apoplectic with impatient fury. I had finished my granola bar without choking, no one had been run over by the black beast van, and Takigawa still had his head. All good.

Father Brown came out to meet us, as though he'd been watching through a window or had sensed us with his priestly spidey senses, because I just noticed the only windows facing the parking lot were either tiny or elaborately filled with scenes of God.

"It's good to see you again Mai, Professor Davis."

"Good to see you too!" I chirped, accepting his outstretched hand.

"I trust you have the area cleared for our equipment," said Naru, straight to business, as always.

"Yes, of course. I'll lead you straight to it." His boyish face turned to Takigawa. "And who might you be? I'm Father Brown, and yes, I know I look young."

"You said it, not me," but Takigawa gave his winning grin and shook the priest's hand. "Takigawa. I'm actually Buddhist, but we're pretty chill with most other religions."

Then was it really necessary to even say that?

John Brown took it in stride, which wasn't too surprising as I was already considering him a pretty laid back kind of guy. Of the respectable, polite kind. Not like how Takigawa was laid back, mind you. He definitely had better posture than Takigawa, but I guess musicians are allowed to slump.

The side door into the chapel was unexpectantly modern compared to the gothic arches and stone the main room for worship had been. It was a long hall of off-white linoleum tiles and white walls, decorated every few feet with scenes from the bible. I saw a boys and girls restroom, a sort of community kitchen, but it was the last door across from 'storage' that Father Brown led us into.

Beyond was just a regular room, with two fold out tables against the walls and a stack of a half a dozen chairs. The linoleum had given way to an industrial like gray carpet, and one plain window took the wall in the back. Morning sunlight shone through the sheer drapes.

Father Brown looked to the Professor until the later nodded.

"This will do. Come on, kids, let's start unloading."

"Dude, I'm almost as old as you are," said Takigawa.

Naru gave him that blank stare that often froze our classmates over. "Mentally speaking, we're not."

If Takigawa hadn't already been use to the Professors smack talk after three classes, he probably would have protested or at least look a little offended. But, rather, he shrugged and followed the black dressed man back outside to the van, where we took what we could life (or rather I searched for something lightweight). Father Brown followed to help, and turn out to be surprisingly strong, so much so he could keep up with the tall, burly Takigawa.

"Dang, what do you do in your spare time? Lift weights?" Takigawa asked around a large computer tower lain atop yet a bigger black tote.

"Well, upkeep on the church isn't easy. I have to do a lot of climbing to keep the ceilings clean."

I tried to imagine this robed guy spider crawling up those expansive, arching walls and shivered.

"Please tell me you at least have, like, a mattress to catch you," I said.

"Oh, no, I use a rock climbing harness. There are actually hooks in the walls specifically for the cleaners, I use those. I also have to polish the bell and…well, I am the youngest one here, so it's only natural I get most of the chores."

Sounds like the poor guy was being used to me, but whatever. Let's just say I wouldn't be surprised if the other priests were fat and middle-aged.

Then again…where were the other priests?

"Oh, they're in charge of services while I set you up," said Father Brown, smiling in that kind, polite way of his. "I'm usually called to service when the others aren't able to."

I exchanged a look with Takigawa, who seemed to be thinking the same thing. _Yep. Definitely the errand dog of the club._

I didn't really notice how much work Lin did until then, when even with three strong guys and a whimpy me took nearly an hour to just get the crap into the building and out of the totes. Then it was to setting up cameras, which I braced myself for as Naru turned to me.

"We can set up in the back and basement while mass is in session," he said, glancing at Father Brown. "Is that alright?"

Another polite smile. "Be my guest."

Meanwhile, Takigawa spread out on the floor and enjoyed not being upright. I bet myself that in ten bucks he'd be asleep the moment we left.

Naru grabbed the cameras, and I the cords. The Father, continuing to be helpful (such a charitable chap) took another camera and followed us, or rather, we followed him as he led us to each of the rooms in the hall.

On the other side of the wall, the rumble of an organ started up. If anyone was singing along with it, I couldn't hear them. It was as though a song-like thunder had started up.

We set up a camera in each room in the back. By then, morning mass had ended and Father Brown was willing to walk us out from that bland back hall and to the back of the alter, where he lifted a door on the floor that otherwise blended in to the marble floor.

"Basement?" I asked.

"More like catacombs," said the Professor. "Sacred ground was never that broad to begin with."

"Don't worry, though, it's nothing like in the movies," said Father Brown, again with that soft, polite smile. "We keep things very clean down here and all the tombs are sealed."

But I was getting excited. Tombs? Dead people? Like….an underground graveyard? Would there be skulls hanging around? Maybe some gargoyles?

Far from it. If anything, the basement was almost as sterile as the back hall had been. The floor was a modern, grey tile and white, LED lights lit up the hallway. Or, rather, the floor to ceiling cement shelves, each shelf containing a boxed in casket, sealed away behind a thick glass and a brass label which named the person who lay there.

…It was very boring.

"The basement stretches the length and width of the chapel," said Father Brown," Not including the back hallway we just came from. That is only used for the mundane, rather than the holy, which is what makes the ground sacred." He walked to the end of the shelves to the cinderblock wall, which had been painted white and hung with dark wood crosses. "These would e the foundation stones of the church I was telling you about. Each have been consecrated for that purpose."

"Seems like it would be rather difficult to get a coffin down here," said Naru, looking up the narrow stairs we had just come down.

"That's why we have the preparation room. It is much different than this. If you'll follow me."

I looked down the long aisles of sealed up coffins as we walked. There were also smaller cubbies with urns in them as well. They were all sorts of colors: white, blue, gray, black, green, I even saw a hot pink one. They must've been an especially exciting person in life. And yet, despite all the coffins, the basement still had a, well, food storage this is where I stuff my camping gear feel to it.

That is, until I reached the end of the shelves and entered into a lavished, square room, which had a steady ramp leading to the ceiling.

"The doors open up right behind the chapel doors," said Father Brown. "Here is where the family of the deceased say their final farewells and we take the coffins into the back."

And a farewell room indeed. Gold trim, a chandelier, carvings of angels in the little arched crannies, a thick scarlet rug woven with intricate gold swirls covered the floor.

Yet, even as I stood there, feeling the last of the 'home basement here's my sleeping bag' feel, something other than what I expected creeped in. Rather than feeling peace or awe, or even appreciation of such a heavenly like room for people to say goodbye to their loved ones, I felt….cheated. Like the angels were hollow and the gold lining was just tin foil from a dollar store. I leaned down to touch the rug with my free hand, the other holding the miles of power cables, to find it velvet soft. The real deal. And yet….

"Mai?"

I stood up, meeting the curious blue gaze of my professor.

"Just got a funny feeling," I said, trying an easy smile and looking to the crystal monstrosity glittering on the ceiling. "All of this is real?"

"Of course," said Father Brown. "This is God's temple. To be cheap would be disgraceful. I must say, though, this room is the most costly next to the arc of the alter. It is referred to as the sacred of sacred rooms." He frowned. "Yet, it, like the chapel, has seemed to change since I've been here."

"Like you've been cheated?" I asked.

The priest gave me a strange look.

"No. There use to be a warm presence here, like it would be okay to fall asleep if one needed to," he said, turning around in a slow circle. "Now that feeling is gone and there's just…glamour. Almost makes the room seem gaudy, though I had never thought of it as such before."

Naru folded his arms. "You feeling that too, Mai?"

"Yeah," I looked to the gold leafing outlining the multi-tiered ceiling. "It feels…fake. Empty."

The professor shrugged. "I feel nothing. But, then, that shouldn't be a surprised. You two are obviously more sensitive than I. So, Father Brown, where would the camera be the least offensive?"

"Oh, anywhere is fine. We don't have a funeral scheduled till next week. You should have the time you need."

As the Priest and my Professor set up the stand and the who knows how expensive thermal and night vision as well as just plain vision camera, I took another turn in the room, passing the angels and meeting their blank, white eyes.

Until I reached one that looked back.


	4. Hug Me, There's Elmer's Glue

**Sorry this is late...again. I don't have internet in my new place, so I have to hunt it down. Not to mention I still feel sick. BUT it's a fat chapter. ^.^ Enjoy**

4

 _"Drugs are so scary because they give us a cheap imitation of what we all seek while dulling our ability to feel it. Peace, happiness, comfort, security, sometimes even just plain fun. And when it's over, we're down off that high, and the world is painted in shades of gray. No wonder it's so hard for addicts to get away or why overdosing is so common. Who'd want to fight for a world of gray if colors, followed by the end, is offered?_

 _Best we never try the forbidden fruit in the first place. Because we all know where it really leads."_

No. A boy looked back at me, lanky and slender in the stretched out sort of way boys get when they just hit puberty. In his eyes, I didn't see myself reflecting back, but I did see the room behind me, garish and bright. Yet his pupils were pinpricks and the blue of his eyes like granite. He wore mussed clothes I couldn't make out, and his sharp features foretold of an angular, but handsome man.

He didn't say anything. Just looked at me.

"What're you doing here?" I asked. After all, I hadn't seen him coming in, and I couldn't see how Father Brown would be okay with a kid just hanging out in frumpy clothes.

The boy opened his mouth. Instead of sound, thin, white-clear vomit spilled out.

I jumped back with a sickening lurch of my stomach only to find myself sitting up so quick I headbutt Takigawa in the face.

"AW!" He yelled, smacking his hand to his nose. "Damn!"

"Well, she's alive," said the professor as dry as whiskey.

I was about to tell Takigawa that his face hadn't felt all that great against my forehead so cowboy up, but more pressing matters took precedent.

"I'm gonna throw up."

They only had the time to register what I was saying before my granola bar breakfast came back up, with friends I didn't remember eating.

So much for the nice, scarlet rug.

"Is she having a seizure? Should we call a doctor?" asked Father Brown, all alarm, while Takigawa gagged and did his best to keep his own lunch down.

"I'm sorry," I whimpered through watering eyes.

Of course Professor Davis was unfazed. "Perhaps, but more likely she experienced a vision, given her clairvoyance. It has shown signs of having an effect outside of her dreams."

"Yeah, whatever, can we get this cleaned up?" Takigawa asked, pinching his nose.

Father Brown jumped up to go back into the catacombs, where I suppose a janitorial closet was. I meekly scooted far away from my puddle of sick, shivering with a cold sweat that had beaded over me.

Naru followed, probably not to keen to be around vomit anyways. "Did you see anything? You looked at that angel statue and passed out."

I just stopped myself from looking at said statue again. No need to see it twice. "I saw a boy. A boy replaced the statue. He was, like, 12 or something, you know that age they just hit puberty and look like string taffy?"

Naru crouched down to where I had huddled on the floor, hugging my legs to my chest. I didn't quite trust them to hold me up yet.

"He had really bright blue eyes, and when I asked what he was doing here because, well, you know, I didn't think this was a place some kid would be allowed to hang out in, he sort of dribble threw up all this white spit, I guess."

Naru frowned. "White spit? Like foam?"

"No, like…it kind of looked like Elmer's glue. You know, a little clearish but still white? When I jerked back I ended up sitting up instead and, well, mashing Takigawa's face."

On hearing his name, he said, "Yeah, and my nose is bleeding, thanks. Freaking iron skull…"

"Why were you hanging over me so close anyways?" I snapped.

"To see if you were breathing and stuff, duh! Sorry for trying to make sure you weren't having cardiac arrest or something."

"What else can you tell me about this boy?" Naru asked. "His clothes? His surroundings? Facial features?"

I gave him every detail I could remember while Takigawa pulled a sock from his foot to steam the bleeding from his nose. Father Brown rushed in soon after with a bottle of cleaner, several rags, and what looked like a handheld vacuum.

When I'd given him everything I could think of, Naru got up to investigate the statue that started this. I got to sit there and feel surreal that I just had a 'vision' and that it hadn't been all lights and heaven or weird Van Goh colorings, but nauseating and uncomfortable. Though, for the first time, I actually knew for a certainty that what Naru had been saying about me all along was true. I did have supernatural powers.

Then why wasn't I happy about that?

Shivering, I looked to where Father Brown was busily squirting and wiping.

"Shouldn't I do that?" I asked.

"Nah. Don't worry," said the Priest. "You're the one that's unwell."

"But this is supposed to be your nicest room and stuff."

"And it will continue to be once I've cleaned this up. Don't worry, Miss, you did fine."

I did fine? Hugging myself, I wondered if that really were true. What had I brought to the table that could help with the case anyways? A puking boy? With the reflection of all this gold and red in his eyes…

Naru held out his hand to me.

"Think you can get up?"

Now wishing I can get home as quick as possible so I could wash out the taste of vomit from my mouth and take a hot bath, I accepted his hand and he pulled me up. He didn't let go, however, and put his fingers to the inside of my wrist and closed his eyes.

"Heartbeat's normal," he said after a moment, then he put his other hand to my forehead. "Clammy, to be expected, but no high temperature. You should be alright."

"You mean you didn't think that before?" I asked as he pulled his hands away. My flesh where they had been cried out from the loss of warmth.

"Never hurts to check," he said. He looked askance at Takigawa, still dabbing his nose.

"If the camera is set up, we should set up a few in the catacombs. Mai, you head back and get one of the cots out and take a rest. I'll get you back to work when your color returns."

"That's unexpectedly nice of you," I said, making a show of squinting my eyes at him and crossing my arms.

I got that 'you're stupid' look for that. "Your shaking and you're so white you're almost purple. I'd say it's extra precaution, because you look like you'd drop the first camera I gave you."

Which may or may not be true, but it was still kind of a fuzzy moment to be told to get some rest by Professor Ice.

I stopped by Father Brown for a second to get directions, then I was on my way. The catacombs, even as modern as they, were a lot creepier on my own. I kept looking over my shoulder, wondering if I'd see that boy again. Because it hadn't seemed like a vision to me. It had seemed ultra real, in Technicolor. I didn't remember being unconscious or what. And that unnerved me. That something could reach in and switch me off without so much as a squeak from me. It was the equivalent of a buttload of invisible snipers hidden about me at all times ready to shot me with a moose tranquilizer at the drop of a dime.

The feeling lessened a bit as I made it up the steep staircase and into the sunlit chapel above. Past the altar and through the open air of the arches, I felt I could finally breathe deeply. It was warmer up here. Less claustrophobic.

Since my legs still shook and my stomach wasn't too happy for me, I took a seat in the front bench, which also happened to be bathed in noon or afternoon sunlight. I shuddered as the warm wood pressed through my clothes. I closed my eyes, trying to push that warmth to the shivering in my legs and arms, even bringing up my legs and spreading myself out to get to more sunlight.

Which left me staring straight up into a painting on a concave square of the ceiling, which was directly above the altar.

I didn't know enough to know who stood there, but a man did, dressed in billowing white and red robes, his hands spread out and people reaching, some of them even crawling, to get to him. Clouds and other embellishments I couldn't quite make out surrounded him. Cream and gold accented and embraced the mural.

Yes. It was beautiful, I thought. Beautiful in such a way that the gold and scarlet room below had somehow lost along the way. Even with the one or two crawlers on there. The people didn't look desperate, however. The expressions on their faces were…from what I could tell from this distance, euphoric.

"Wonder if that's him," I murmured to myself, even as I closed my eyes to feel the sunlight on my lids.

Next thing I knew, somebody was snapping their fingers in front of my face, waking me from my warm, half-formed dream where the mural had started to move and the people had finally reached the angelic man. They had been shaking his hands and hugging him like a celebrity.

The cool, glacier blue gaze of my professor stared down.

"I suppose you couldn't bring yourself to unfold a cot," he said.

I pouted at his bland displeasure. "The sun had been out, it was warm. I was freezing."

My stomach gurgled. Loudly.

I put an arm across it and sat up, face flushed.

"Well, we haven't had lunch," I said.

"We had some sandwiches while you slept," he said, which got me all sorts of left out puppy feelings. "I figured if I let you sleep, I'd be more likely to get more information that way. Stop looking at me like that, there's one left for you in the fridge."

I wrinkled my nose at him anyways. "You could have some sort of gooey pity feelings for the girl who just had her first whatever the hell that was and vomited all over class S carpet."

The corner of his mouth twitched, but nothing more. "Probably not the best thing to swear while you're in a church."

"They talk about hell all the time here. And just so you know, the only dream I had was about the mural up there sort of coming to life." I pointed up, and he followed my finger.

"How so?" he asked.

"Well, nobody was crawling, for one. They had just reached him, that's all." I yawned, rubbing my growling tummy. "Wasn't even that vivid."

I gave him a moment to look at it before deciding I didn't want to wait on him to lead me to my holy sandwich. I remembered where the kitchen was anyways.

On the other side of the wall, where the chapel ended and something more industrial began, Father Brown caught sight of me and sped up.

"How are you feeling?" he asked with that ever-present, easy smile.

"Like I could eat my own arm," I said. It came out rather darkly and his smile wavered. "Nothing like that. Sorry, I haven't…had that much experience in a chapel. I didn't mean anything bad."

He nodded, as though he had already figured that. "Well, kitchen is to the right just up here. There should be a bottle of milk and a subway sandwich almost as big as your arm. Hopefully, that will be satisfying enough."

And once I found it, it was. I found the clean, disconnected feeling of the industrial-like kitchen rather comfortable after walking through dead bodies and staring at paintings, so I sat on the counter by a warm window and munched away. Thank heavens I was nauseous anymore. Best not to think about it, just in case it called all that sick back home.

At some point, Takigawa poked his head in. His nose had stopped bleeding, that was good, even though it still looked red and a little swollen.

"Ah! There you are," he slid through, letting the door close behind him and almost skipped to me. "Thought you'd gone on and raided the sacrament cupboards without me. I hear they use those vanilla wafer things for it."

I rolled my eyes. "I like to think I have some sense of respect and reverence, which you should have, being the whole religious battery of ours." I hesitated. "Sorry about your nose."

"Sorry about your head," he said, flicking a fingertip out to brush over a part of my forehead I hadn't notice was sore. As soon as it came, his hand vanished, back into hoodie pockets. "You gonna be alright?"

"If I don't get tranqed by my so call clairvoyance, yeah." I swallowed what was in my mouth and chased it down with some milk.

"Yeah, that was kinda spooky. You just dropped. I was afraid you hit your head. Good thing you seemed to hit the rug, though, it was soft enough."

I shrugged. He watched me for a few seconds as I bit into the last fourth of my sandwich and chewed away.

"I still think we should take you to a doctor," he said, quietly.

"Na—the Professor seems to think I'm fine enough," I said around some lettuce.

"He's not a doctor though. Mai…you really did scare me there."

I met his serious gaze and swallowed, feeling a bit ashamed, which was dumb because I hadn't had any control over the whole passing out thing.

"I'm sorry. But I do feel fine. Fantastic now that I've gotten some food. Just seems like a bad dream."

"Has that ever happened to you before?"

I shook my head with another swallow of milk. Had milk always tasted this good? Dang.

He looked at me in concern for a moment longer, than shook it off and smiled.

"We're all gonna sleep in the same room tonight. How 'bout you push up your cot next to mine? I'll keep you nice and cozy all night."

I almost choked on my sandwich but managed to not react too violently and give him my best sardonic smile.

"Sorry, lover boy, but I doubt the prof would allow it."

"It's not like he's our chaperone. We're not kids. And I won't do anything because, well, he'll be in there. I have enough tact not to work my romance with a professor in the room." His smile widened. "Though, I might make an exception on your part if you're just extra cuddly."

"No." I said.

He blanched. "So quickly? Not even a moment of thought?"

I swallowed some more milk to wash away the need to cough before answering. "If you had been listening, dude, I said I had issues. One of those issues is trust. I ain't sliding into any guy's bed unless I know him like the back of my hand." Or rather, I knew he wouldn't be leaving my side anytime soon. Gal, I really was developing into that clingy kind of girl, wasn't I?

For a brief moment, I thought he might bring up our last case, where Naru and I had slept in the same bed in order to watch out for each other, since we had both been suicidal due to the haunting of the place.

But he must not have known about that, because he said, "Fine. I won't even touch you. You'll be in your own cot and everything. Just next to me?"

"You know the Prof will probably have me up all night watching the cameras anyways, right?"

That actually got him to deflate.

"Rain on my parade," he sighed. "Fine, can I hug you at least?"

"Where's all this need to be touchy coming from?" It was a bit alarming. At least I had finished my sandwich.

He hesitated for a moment, his smile weakening a bit.

"I'm not some kind of horn dog or…" he paused, sighing. "Look, you just…really scared me back there. Maybe I'm just being pathetic. So I…I kind of want to hold you until I know for sure you're not going to, I don't know, freeze up or die or something…"

He was looking at the floor at this point, and I would have too. But instead, I threw back what was left of my milk and licked my lips as I examined the gold gleam of sunlight in his hair. Something within me quivered.

Tossing my empty milk body into a nearby trash bin, I slid off the counter and awkwardly slipped my arms around his chest.

"Look, I can't remember the last time I hugged anybody," but he cut me off with a hard embrace, pressing me to a broad chest of warm hoodie and wrapping me in the smell of some kind of men's bodywash, which always smelled good. He also smelt of something nut like, like peanuts or baked pecans. It was a warm, heady sort of scent.

When I felt his cheek atop my head, I knew he wouldn't be letting go anytime soon.

It wasn't like I was anti-touching or anything. I just…hadn't had a lot of opportunities to be hugged or touched in any sort of intimate way. Even as my insides squirmed at the strange, awkwardness of it all, I had to admit that being hugged was, well, pretty nice. Especially after being so chilled by the chapel's basement.

Takigawa pulled away sooner than he thought he would.

"Thanks, and sorry if I made you uncomfortable," his face was a little flushed and he couldn't quite meet my eye.

"It's fine." And it was. I gave him my widest grin. "Hugs are kinda nice, I think. Maybe I'll ask for more."

That got him to smile. "I'll hold _you_ anytime."

"If you're both done, we still have tests to run."

I stiffened and Takigawa let go of me like I was fire.

Standing in the doorway, having not made a sound of hinge or foot, was Professor Davis, expression cold an dry as ever, if a little exasperated.

For some reason, that made all my insides get all uncomfortable and squirmy. I didn't want him to see me being so close to Takigawa. What if he thought—but did it even matter?

No. Not really. Him and I were still negative two and ten, after all.

The prof jerked his chin over his shoulder, obviously expecting us to follow after him, and left. Takigawa and I wasted no time and he managed to catch the door before it closed completely.

"That guy needs to get laid," Takigawa muttered.

I had to smile at that.


	5. Boys suck

**2nd Trimester. Yesssssssss.**

5

 _"It helps to always have heaven to go to. Even if you don't believe in an afterlife and 'heaven' in the spiritual sense, have a place in your mind where you can go that's fit for you in every way. It has all your favorite foods, all your comforts, all your loved ones, and it's wherever you want it to be. It helps to remind us that a safe haven is possible in this life, and maybe even the next. It's certainly comforting for me."_

Takigawa did managed to get his cot next to mine, even though there was a good two feet of open space between us. Though it was stupid how I was more aware of the professor's being on my other side instead, empty space in between included.

Why did this feel like all kinds of screwed up?

"You'll do half nights this time," said the professor, who had his eyes glued to the wall of screens. "I learned my lesson last time about your capability. I'll take over around two."

"Isn't half-time midnight?" I said.

"If you went to sleep at 6pm," he typed something into his laptop which was next to the control panel for all the cameras. "But it is nine, so two it is."

Takigawa leaned over to me from his cot, dressed in a ragged t-shirt and flannel pajama pants.

"Is it just me, or does he seem miffed with us or something," he whispered.

"For what reason would I be angry with you," said the professor, making us both jump.

"What the- do you have supersonic hearing or something?" asked Takigawa.

"No," he glanced over, his mouth in that thin line that was the closest he got to a smile, at least most of the time. "You're just bad at whispering."

"I thought I did alright," Takigawa looked to me. "I was pretty quiet, right?"

I couldn't answer. I had been caught by one of those inescapable, jaw popping yawns to end all yawns.

"Whatever. It feels weird to be here without any priests," said Takigawa, flopping back onto his smiley face covered pillow and sleeping bag.

"Church watching," I managed through the tail-end of my yawn.

"Why does that sound so much like graveyard watching?"

"Technically, that's not so far off, given there are a few hundred of the dead below us," said the Prof. "Mai, are you coming or are you going to sit there all night yawning?"

"Probably sit here all night yawning," I said, but I got up and meandered my way over to the watch station.

Once I was seated and situated with head phones, open laptop, more or less all the bells and whistles, Naru just up and left. The door hardly made a sound closing after him.

Takigawa snorted. "So needs to be laid."

"He's always been like that," I said, taking note of the temperatures. "You just have sex on the brain."

"No I…" but Takigawa paused. "Huh, maybe I do. You are attractive, and we're technically sleeping together."

A little warmth rose to my cheeks. "I thought I was only a six."

"Seven and a half. Maybe even an 8."

I could feel my smile twitching at that. "Who would you consider a ten then? Why not go for her?"

"Because ten is, like, makes you stop breathing, angelic perfection, only meant for the stage lights and heaven itself sort of thing."

"And I take it 9 is just your normal celebrity?"

"More or less."

"Well, than I guess I can say I'm flattered. Though you need to shut up now so I can listen."

"Duly noted." He threw his blanket over his face.

I had just gotten into the motions of checking the cameras in and out, both infrared and night vision, when the door closed with a quiet click behind me. A black sleeved arm put a thermos next to my hand.

"Thanks, Boss," I said, twisting off the top to get a face full of sweet coffee musk. "And you remembered how I like it."

"I don't have to remember coffee preferences for that many people."

"Should I be honored?"

"It's coffee." He rapped his knuckles against the headband of my headphones. "Pay attention."

And I would have except yet another visitor came through the door, dressed in a white T-shirt and jeans, of all things.

"Father Brown," I said as he met our gaze. "That does nothing to help your baby face."

I expected him to smile, so easy to it as he was, but instead he gaped.

"What happened to your arms?"

Oh. Yeah. I had been wearing a long sleeve shirt because, well, it's cold and getting crap on your bandages hurt. But, other than that, I had almost forgotten I still had them from wrist to elbow.

"Oh, I skinned a little," I said lightly. "Almost healed all the way."

"What were you doing?" he asked, still looking flabbergasted that a girl my age would have skinned her arms bad enough to warrant mummy-like bandages.

"Trying to ride a skateboard pulled by a car. You know, stupid college things."

At least he seemed satisfied with that answer. His smile came back.

"I just finished locking up for the night. You have my number if you need me, I presume? My apartment is quite close so don't hesitate to call."

"Will do," said Naru.

About thirty seconds after the door shut behind Father Brown, Takigawa gave a jackal like grin.

"Mai, you just lied to a priest."

"Not everyone needs to know," I said. "Heck, I wish I didn't know."

Another rap of knuckles from the boss on my headphones. "Pat attention. You've already missed a temperature change on camera 12."

That got me back to work. Fortunately, after some careful examination and checking on other sensors, I was able to conclude that the temperature change was due to the chapel's central air being turned off. Without heat actively pushing it out, a cold current seeped through the window next to the door of the chapel. The same thing happened around the other windows in the camera, but why this one before the others? Perhaps there was a chill breeze in that direction tonight.

Knowing Naru would be expecting me to report in detail on it (he had already head to bed, thank heavens), I got up and went to the window. Fortunately, it had been well tended to and opened up quietly so I was able to lick my thumb and stick it out there.

Yep. Chill breeze. Maybe…southwest?

I brought my hand in, knuckles numb, and returned to my headphones and screens and the nice, hot thermos of sweet coffee.

Overnight, the church slowly settled. The only room that didn't change by much were the basement rooms, which were insulated by the earth itself and already kept chill for the preservation of the dead. I watched as the last of the warm air floated to that high arching ceiling, pressed against a belly of cold from the stones. Around eleven, the temperatures stabilized. The chapel was a nice frigid 54 degrees, only slightly better than the winter air outside.

As for sounds, the chapel was eerily quiet. Occasionally I heard that cold wind pick up and press against the windows or whistle, but otherwise the thick, stone walls didn't budge or let anything pass. I couldn't even hear much of the traffic outside, though it would make sense that a residential street like this would be empty.

"I wonder if the lack of creaking is because of the lack of wood," I muttered to myself, making a note on the computer for the inevitable report the professor would ask of me. I ran a quick google search on the sensitivity of wood to temperature compared to stone, but then it needed the specifics of the stone, and as my best bet was granite, I went with that.

Chapel wi-fi does not the best speed make, so while the computer struggled with grandpa internet, I made sure to recheck each of the rooms. I had already passed one and gone to the next two when I did a double take.

"Thirty-four degrees?" I squinted, just to make sure.

Yes. And dropping.

The last good-bye room.

My stomach did a little squirm and I quickly took note of that. I had already noted a slight draft around the doors, but since it led to the chapel rather than outside, the temperature had stabilized at a slightly lower number than the ground-floor of the chapel. Now, however, it had become frigid, and was still dropping, with no discernible currents to explain the change.

I turned up the volume as the number hit 27 degrees.

"Naru," I said. "You might want to see this."

I hadn't spoken very loud. But, then, I hadn't need to. The cot creaked and the next thing I knew he was leaning over my shoulder, smelling of leather and sleep and something distinctly male.

I pointed out the screen.

"Did you note the time the temperature started to decrease," he asked.

"My best estimate," he glanced at my notes. 12:45 am.

"It's not stopping," I murmured between my fingers, which I had folded into a plane beneath my nose for some reason. Probably because my fingers were numb with cold and the warm breath from my nose helped alleviate that. I had finished the coffee around ten thirty.

Naru made a low grunt in his throat.

"I need to see what's going on down there."

I twisted my neck so fast as he walked away it crackled. "Take Takigawa. You shouldn't go alone."

He didn't answer right away, just quietly pulled on his trench coat over his very bland, dark blue pajamas.

"Have him come after me. I can't dally," and he was out.

Feeling a lurch in my chest, and not quite sure why I felt so anxious, I went to Takigawa and shook the foot of his cot. He snored on. Or more like little, clicking like snores.

"Oh, come on," I shook his leg. "Wake up, the Prof needs you. Ooo, ghosts!" I slapped at his calf.

Takigawa stopped mid-click-snore and smacked his mouth. He pushed himself up, running his hands down his eyes till all I could see was red and white.

"Wha 'bout the Prof?"

"The pretty dead peeps room is turning into a freezer. Serious activity going down there, he already left, you need to go after him."

"Why?"

"Because he should go into that high of activity alone," I said impatiently.

"What good would I be?"

"Just go, or I'll never go on a date with you."

He sighed. "You haven't even gone on the lunch one I suggested yesterday."

Yeah, I had slept through it.

I tugged impatiently at his blankets, poked his side—good lord this man moved like a pile of sludge.

The longer it took for him to get up and shuffle to his shoes and coat, the more anxious I became. Once it was clear he would be on his way within moments, I jumped back to the cameras and zoned in on the screen to read the temperature.

14 degrees, except for the warm, male body walking in and around. I switched to night-view vision and got the room in black and white, with a bleaching beam wherever Naru pointed his flashlight. All of Naru was cast in shadow, except for his white face.

And then, there were two white faces.

The other face was shorter, facing the camera, looking into it, straight to my eyes. Just as I pulled away to take note, as calmly as possible, I saw another, and another.

Three blinks later and the professor was surrounded by shades and pale faces, the bleaching beam of his flashlight making all disappear momentarily.

I scrambled for my cell phone. My clammy fingers slipped on the screen, but thank god it was a smart phone and could figure out what I wanted.

I heard a quiet, tinkling tune that sounded vaguely familiar in my headphones as my phone rang. The Prof pulled out his phone, as another bright light appeared to light up his face.

" _Yes,"_ he said.

"You're surrounded," I breathed.

The flashlight swiveled around, washing out a row of faces. "By what? There's nothing down here."

"By…" but my breath caught. The faces had moved closer. With each pass of his flashlight they came closer, head and shoulders becoming more pronounced. Narrow, just beginning to broaden shoulders, and a few that still had pudge on them. As they drew closer to Naru, I could make out the faintest shadow outline of torsos.

"They're boys," I whispered.

" _What?"_

But just the, the crowd of faces launched. The bright square of Naru's phone dropped from his hand and his flashlight went to the ceiling. Then it dropped to the floor too, almost bleaching out all of Naru's lower legs.

"Naru!" I stood up, zooming over the other cameras to see where Takigawa was. Just getting down the stairs to the dead room. "You freaking—"

I hurried and hung up to recall Takigawa, who, unlike the professor, took his sweet time answering as he ambled down the shelves of dead. I had enough time to tell he had set up "Killer Queen" by Queen for his ring tone, or at least mine.

" _Can't tell you how creepy this is with just a flash—"_

"THEY'RE ATTACKING HIM!"

He cringed back from his phone. " _Wait, did you say attacking?_ "

"YEAH, DIPSHIT, THE PROFESSOR!"

Takigawa had the place of mind to simply hang up on me and start running.

In shades of gray, Naru clawed at the hands around his throat, or more simply the mass, mouth opening and closing soundlessly. His knees buckled and the faces moved in, a ring of transparent white about his head, almost like a halo.

Suddenly, Takigawa's flashlight burst onto the scene.

" _Professor_!" I heard him shout over the speakers.

I saw wisps of cloud—of faces, move towards Takigawa. "Crap, TAKIGAWA!"

But just as they came about him, shorter than him by a good few feet, I lost sight of them. The moment Takigawa dropped to his knees and put his hands around Naru's throat to find what he was fighting, then all the faces vanished like fog before a wind.

I listened as Naru sucked in a desperate breath and started to cough and hack. A crushed throat doing its best to reopen.

But just as I began to panic, his coughing calmed down enough that I could hear Takigawa's inquiries into his well being.

Naru didn't answer until he had several mouthfuls of air.

" _I don't know,"_ I heard, barely more than a murmur across the headphones.

Shaking, I quickly took note of the slowly rising temperature, the time, and any other descriptions I could remember. The sound of their voices became background noise as they left the good-bye dead people room.

I swiveled around the moment I heard the door click open. Takigawa came in with one of the Professor's arms slung around his shoulders. It was one of the few times I had a chance to compare their heights, and was surprised to find the professor several inches shorter. Had Takigawa always been that tall?

"Put him on his bed," I said, standing up and fluttering to their sides, praying my voice sounded at least calm.

"Calm down, Mai," Naru rasped.

But just hearing his torn up voice made me more upset.

"Why didn't you hurry like I told you?" I snapped at Takigawa.

"I was half asleep!"

"And he was half dead! I told you—I told you—"

" _Mai!_ "

This time, Naru barked. Combined with his torn voice, it was like getting barked at by batman, which, by the way, is a terrifying experience.

"It was my choice to go on my own," he said, more quietly. "There was no way Takigawa would have known. Usually spirits are harmless."

"Then why the hell did you get particularly murderous ones two times in a row?" I said, nearly shouted.

"They're the only two I asked you to come on. I had several very calm cases over winter break—" his voice cut off into a coughing fit as Takigawa settled him on his cot.

I was a flutter, all in the air, shaking, hands almost as pale as my bandages. As soon as he had the professor down Takigawa stepped over to stop me by my shoulders.

"Mai, calm down. He's okay. Everything is okay."

"But he—but he-" Crud. I'd caught sight of Naru's eyes in the too-bright screen light and seen red. Burst blood vessels in his eyes from lack of oxygen. If I hadn't been hyperventilating before, I sure was now.

Takigawa pushed me back into the chair. My knees buckled down of their own accord.

"Slow down," he said. "You're breathing too fast. Look, the professor's fine."

"His—his eyes are red, we need to get him to a doctor—I'm so sorry I yelled at you, Takigawa I—"

"No, he is fine. Look, he's breathing and even giving you that haughty look that he thinks he's smarter than you are."

Naru wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Did you have to make that comment?"

"The 'you're stupid' look," I gasped, managing a very small, very shaky smile. "Yeah. Yeah, I know."

"So breathe, Mai. Come on. It's okay."

It was hard, but I closed my eyes, clenched my hands to my knees, and forced myself to breathe in to my gut, then hold it in for what seemed to be an eternity, but was only three seconds.

Then I looked back at Naru. At the 'you're stupid' look.

Slowly, I could feel my heart winding down.

"I think it's more interesting that Mai had the foresight to say I shouldn't go alone. She could sense the danger before it happened. Take note of that, Mai."

I did so, thinking it weird to write a note about my own abilities. But I was so freaking relieved…so freaking relieved…

I dropped my head near the keyboard and whimpered, suddenly beyond exhausted.

Takigawa's warm hand patted my head.

"Bedtime for the psychic."

"It's not two," I moaned.

"I'll take up the watch. You just worry about staying relaxed, okay?"

"I'm not the one who needs to relax, it's Na—the Professor that's hurt."

"And I won't be sleeping either," interjected Naru. "Takigawa's report on his watch were horrendous."

"Jeeze, then why did you even ask me to come?" Takigawa said, obviously miffed.

"Because you're strong, mentally and spiritually, and you recently added a parapsychology minor to your repertoire. In time you'll realize you can't do music and parapsychology at the same time."

"I don't recall you knowing me well enough to say what I can or cannot do, professor."

"I don't need to know you," said Naru, still managing to sound distant and cool despite his raspy voice. "A music major is the most demanding of all subjects, requiring hours of practice and rehearsals as well as the usual homework and class time. You have a job too, if I recall. It's only a manner of time."

Takigawa's expression didn't look all that happy. "So, basically you're trying to win me over to parapsychology."

Naru snorted. "No. I'm preparing you in case you do. You and Mai will be the first generation of certified, professional ghost hunters that the world will see—a world, may I remind you, that is still very skeptical and confused about the all and anything remotely supernatural. I can't allow any one of you to ruin all the progress those ahead of you have made."

With that, and another coughing fit, he swung his legs down and did his best to man-stride-no-weakness to the nearest spare chair, which he snapped next to the office chair Takigawa would be using and plopped down.

Both Takigawa and I tensed up.

"Naru—" I started

"Prof, you need the rest more than any of us."

"Like I could sleep after that," he said dryly. "You forget. This is my passion, my livelihood. No, I'm seeing this through, by first making sure you learn how to work night watch and report with all the precision of the CSI."

Takigawa heaved a heavy sigh.

"Well, I got into this knowing you were a stickler."

And with a roll of his shoulders, Takigawa sat down in the office chair I had been keeping warm all night and went to adjusting the headphones.

When I just stood there stupidly, still shivering, cold, and uneasy, Naru turned his blood stained eyes to me.

"Go to sleep, Mai." And for the first time that night, his raspy voice gave way to a gentle softness as rare as his smile.

"You will be okay?" I asked, unable to stop from sounding like a child asking if the boogie man was good and far away.

"Yes. My throat hurts and my eyes sting a little, but I'm okay. You've done a good job for your half of the night. Please, get some sleep."

Sniffing, unaware that my eyes had started to water, I nodded and shakily made my way to the cot between the two men. I kicked off my worn brown slippers. Unzipped my flannel lined sleeping bag. Snuggled in till all the softness swallowed me whole.

And faster than I expected, I was out.


	6. I Can Call You Stupid In My Dreams

6

" _What part of our humanity decides there exists a right and a wrong?"_

Naru met me in the darkness. But no, the smile he gave to me was not Naru's.

"You're Eugene," I said.

The young man nodded. There were familiar cool blue fires flickering in the distance, like stars. I thought I could see some of the walls or faint outlines of the chapel's storage room and hallway. It was all transparent, as though I stood in a 3D blueprint of black with white lines.

"Why…why can I see you?"

He turned his head away and shrugged, the softness to his expression turning sad.

I felt more than heard his answer.

"Naru can't see you. I'm the closest you got."

He bowed his head to hide his expression at that.

I drew closer, carefully, unsure of whether this dream was one of the fragile ones easily broken into nonsense or not.

"Hey, I'm okay with that. You got something you have to do for him before you go."

There was a long moment of silence, or perhaps only a breath as time is difficult to track in dreams, where Eugene simply stood there, face hidden, shoulders slumped.

But, finally, he turned to meet my eyes, and his gaze shone just as blue as his brothers.

"He's an idiot," he murmured.

"In some things, yeah."

"He needs to stop the stupid black thing. Nobody does that anymore, and I just think it makes him look more stupid."

"Or more sad," I whispered.

Eugene's blue eyes, the same color except somehow so much warmer, jumped about my face. Meanwhile, the foxfires drifted, sometimes near, sometimes into nonexistence.

"I'm worried about you too," he said. "Your abilities are like mine, but…unstable. Changing. Different."

I cocked my head. "What, you don't think I'm rather pathetic and sad too?"

That made the spirit flinch back, and for a moment I thought he'd disappear into the darkness along with those distance fox fires.

But when he spoke, the words were sure.

"No. I think you're strong. Strong enough to be what he needs. Or at least smart enough to stop him from doing something truly stupid. See, he gets so caught up in how book smart he is sometimes and, ugh, how arrogant he can be, that he totally misses the common things that everyone knows—that everyone must know—to survive."

"Like what?"

"Like how a human will die if left alone. Or that picking at someone's flaws doesn't make you friends. And that he even needs friends. Or," a full blow return of the smile came back. "Why he needs you. Or heck, sometimes it's even just stupid food or sleep or damn Nyquil that he just glazes over because he thinks he's in a higher realm."

I smiled. "Stupid scientist?"

Eugene nodded, though this time I could see the fondness in his face. "Stupid scientist, but…a good man."

Suddenly, our surroundings shifted. The transparent walls become clearer and the white lines less distinct. Somehow, Eugene had gotten hold of my hand without me being aware that he had come close enough to take it in the first place.

And, with the sensation of gliding through water, he pulled me into the cool, empty chapel, moonlight gleaming on the well used, polished pews.

"Do you know what makes a place sacred?" he asked.

"Well, John said something about consecration and prayers and stuff over the foundation stones."

Eugene shook his head. "Not quite. Not wrong, but not the bigger truth." He gestured over the expanse of the chapel. "It's people who make a place sacred. By deciding it is special and treating it thusly through their actions and their attitude towards their own self-improvement and sense of morality, a sort of…atmosphere is created that most people's natural sixth sense can pick up from one another. We are highly social creatures after all, and there's a reason psychics are born every now and then. That active effort to create a safe place, a holy pace, and to protect it from outside influences that would wish to sully that, makes it so." He walked passed a pew, tracing his hand along the back. "It's remarkable how much control we really have over our environment simply through our choices, thoughts, and actions."

It took me a moment to digest that. I didn't claim to be the brightest bulb in the pack, and I didn't want to make any mistakes.

"So, when that feeling is gone," I said slowly, "That's because something has been allowed in to ruin that?"

He shook his head. "Not something. Someone. People make it sacred."

"And people can undo it as well," I finished for him.

He nodded.

"So…" I glanced at the floor, where I could almost see the gaudy good-bye room. "If there are bad spirits here—"

"No," he broke in. "The spiritual plane is all affected by perception, and spirits go where they perceive they must be. Good calls to good, bad calls to bad, pain…calls for justice. They can't take away what the living have lain down. They can't move stones or even see the entirety of the holy space. They can only feel their way through the world and what they can perceive of it."

I thought about that, the gold and scarlet room growing clearer through an ever growing transparent floor.

"Are you telling me," I said, slowly. "That…that the awful feeling Father Brown called us in to investigate about isn't caused by the ghosts, but by someone who is alive?"

Eugene gave me a winning smile.

"I heard from several religions I studied that the blood of the innocent cry unto God, or the gods, for justice," the words came out strangely, as though quoted through a different person. "Or they simply cry, hoping someone will hear them and rescue them from the hell their mangled perceptions have dropped them into due to the cruel actions of others."

And even as he said so, I thought I could see them again. Lanky, prepubescent boys, with some baby pudge ones mixed in, leaning against the walls of the good-bye room, each attached to an angel as though they hadn't planned it that way, just staring into the center of the room. The longer I looked, the more I could see. Sullied clothes, blood, bruises, dried crusted vomit about their faces, eyes impossible deep and dark in faces pale as clouds.

And the rich decorations looked more gawdy than ever.

"Eugene," I murmured. "What happened to them?"

But when I turned to hear his answer, the chapel had turned into the dark red of the back of my eyelids. Sunlight warmed my cheek where it reached me through the window.


	7. Squishy Kiss and the Ten

7

The room was bright with late morning sunshine. Since it was winter, that really said something. It could've been noon for all I knew.

I rolled over to see Naru curled up on his side in his cot, his blanket pulled up to his nose, sound asleep.

I only allowed myself a moment to be fascinated by that before turning my attention to Takigawa, who still sat at the seat of torture before the screens. He definitely looked like the remains of an all nighter.

"Hello," I meeped.

He turned his head to give me a warm smile.

"Good morning, Mai sweet. Get some good sleep?"

I slowly sat up, curling my blankets about my back as I did so. It was flipping cold.

"Better than you," I said, yawning and rubbing sleep crusties out of my eyes. "When did Naru go down?"

"Not too long after you. He watched the video with the strangling floating faces, took some notes, then suddenly just collapsed in bed. I knew he was mostly show."

"Most people usually are."

Still rubbing my eyes, I oozed out of bed, pawed around my bag for some clothes and a toothbrush, and headed out to find a sink and some breakfast. I had asked Takigawa if he wanted me to take over but he said he was nearly done and would be to bed in a few minutes anyways.

Pee, brush teeth, waddle to the kitchen in hopes there would be _something—_

To find a smiling Father Brown stirring a pot of soup or stew, I couldn't tell. All I knew was that it smelled heavenly. I thought I could smell bread in the oven too.

"Good morning, Miss Mai. You're just in time for brunch."

"You know you don't have to feed us," I said, though I gave him an appreciative smile nonetheless.

"I don't see why I shouldn't," he tapped the soup spoon on the side of the pot and placed it on a folded paper towel. "I'm here anyways for services and, from what I heard of last night, I wouldn't think any of you three would be feeling up to it."

I half laid myself on the counter between the walkway and the rest of the kitchen. "You're so super duper sweet, Father."

A polite smile. "You can just call me John, if you like. We are about the same age, after all. It sounds weird even to me."

"Okay. John Jacob Jingle Himer Smith."

He chuckled, then moved to a cupboard to pull out a white ceramic bowl that could have come from the 70's, with those weird amber patterns around the edges and oddly thin feeling. He scouped some of that good smelling something in to the line of the patterns and carefully walked it over to place in front of me. A tomato and beef broth rose up to me, carrying with it the smell of thyme and rosemary. A spoon appeared, and I carefully blew and took a sip.

"Holy crap. You can cook!"

"Thank you, I guess." He was peeking into the oven at what I had expected: rolls. Fat, beautiful, golden rolls.

"It's almost a shame you're a priest. Any woman you'd married would be set for life, for reals, my gosh, did you just whip this up out of the air?"

"If you mean from scratch, yes." He pulled out a casserole dish of rolls and offered me one, to which I readily agreed. He didn't give me one right away, but first painted their tops with melted butter so they gleamed in the light pouring in from the textured kitchen windows.

Pretty much burnt myself in my eagerness to taste such beautiful rolls. Sweet, fluffy, soft, and divine.

"Such a shame," I muttered through a mouthful, closing my eyes in bliss. Any leftover stress, fear, or cold melted away with the taste and heat of the food. Freaking heaven's food, right here. Wonder if it could exorcise evil spirits, like holy water. Might just make them mad that they can't taste it either.

After he had poured his own bowl, he leaned against the counter next to the sink and slowly sipped at it until his roll had cooled.

"What made you decide to become a priest?" I asked, again with my mouth full of bread.

"I grew up without a father," he said, using our conversation to blow on his soup/stew more. "My mother worked a lot of the time, and so I asked God if he could, you know, be my father, not just in the spiritual sense but an actually dad too, since there are scriptures saying he'd be father to the fatherless." He took a sip of his soup, and his voice quieted. "And…He was. I could feel him when I needed him, a warm, peaceful presence. I…I thought I could even…hear him when I prayed. Or sometimes as a warning voice in my head that kept me out of a lot of trouble."

Yeah, I'd stare at that. I swallowed hard.

"You can hear God?"

He shrugged rather weakly. "I wouldn't think too much on it. Anyone can receive an answer from God after putting forth the proper effort and time."

"Then…do you think He'd be my dad too?"

That caught both me and John off guard. I could feel heat flushing to my face.

"You don't have…" he started, softly.

"I'm an orphan," I said, as cheerily as I could. "Have been since I was fourteen, but my dad died when I was nine. I don't really remember what it's like to have a dad, but I can't say I don't love the idea of having someone, so if it worked for you, do you think it would work for me?"

I couldn't read his expression as he looked at me. Something with wonder, and something else I couldn't place. For a flash of a second, I thought he'd leave his food to stride across the room and hug me.

But, instead, he smiled, and it wasn't the nice, polite smiles he had given up till then, but something utterly tender and warm that made my insides shiver. I…I couldn't remember if anyone had ever looked at me like that before. Like I was…cared for.

"I don't see why not," he said. "As long as you're willing to put forth the effort to be receptive to Him."

"Then how do I do that?"

Whatever John was about to say vanished as Takigawa stumbled through the door, rather noisily, and yawning wide enough to hide a house in there.

"Fee Fi Fo Thumb," he muttered. "I smell the smell of delicious food."

John chuckled, more of a polite chuckle than an amused one. All traces of that tender expression had vanished to be replaced with his usual.

"Over here. Have as much as you want. Though careful, the rolls are still very hot."

"Ah, the heat of freshness," and he was there, shoving said hot roll to his face. He had it half eaten by the time he got a bowl of soup served up.

By the time we finished, Naru had stumbled in, looking particularly gruesome with his bruised neck and blood shot eyes. John exclaimed something under his breath at the sight.

"Ghosts did this to you?"

Naru paid the question no heed. "Can I have some too?"

John stepped aside and gestured, then turned to the sink to start washing dishes, probably to keep himself from staring.

I had no such distraction, and my chest was already aching. Couldn't I put ice on his neck or something? At least his voice had recovered.

Takigawa's hand landed on mine, making me jump.

"He's okay," he told me, giving my hand a squeeze. "See me off to bed?"

"I was actually thinking of sending you off to class," said Naru from across the room. "All I have for the time being is some interviews that I'd rather conduct myself. And since you have no spiritual abilities to gather clues outside of your religion, you might do best getting some sleep. You can come back tonight to help with watch, if you so wish."

Takigawa's face did a weird jump. "Oh? And I guess you want to keep Mai here for yourself?"

Naru gave him his trademark droll stare, thought the scarlet in his eyes just made me wince.

"She has clairvoyance," he said. "I am going to need that in the coming interviews, not to mention she owes me a report for the first half of last night. I have yet to hear it."

Takigawa's nose wrinkled with his deep frown.

"Sure, clairvoyance. That's what it is."

Naru narrowed his eyes over his soup bowl, which he had been drinking out of in turn with his spoon. Once he swallowed, he settled a glare like ice on Takigawa.

"Do you only take my classes to try to get to her?"

Now it was Takigawa's turn to be angry.

"Like I'd need your classes to get close to anyone! I'll have you know, my report was everything you wanted and more—"

"After I walked you through the basic outline like a child."

"At least I have the courage to say I like a girl, have you ever even been on a date?"

I jumped to my feet. "Oy! I'm right here! Can you have this argument somewhere else at least?" Yeah. My face was red. No doubt about that. John's wide eyed look from Naru to Takigawa just fueled my embarrassment even more.

Naru put his soup back to his mouth.

Takigawa snorted and almost stomped out of the kitchen and into the hall.

I followed after, alarmed at this uncharacteristic bad mood from the usually happy-go-lucky music major.

"Takigawa, there's no reason whatsoever to be so worked up. Remember? Professor's like a ten and I'm a—"

"Shut it. Just, shut it." He stopped, shoulders hunched up to his ears. "I know you'd rather date him than me. Just…I thought if you could see how pointless—but if he makes a move…"

He fell quiet, and I noticed he had clenched his hands.

Oh. Oh, this was serious.

Still hot in the face and very much uncomfortable, I reached for his arm. He turned around, reluctantly, looking to the side and ducking down to try and hide the flush to his face. It was like nothing I'd seen in him before.

What do I say? I couldn't lie to him.

"I don't even want to like the Professor," I said in little more than a whisper. "For all I know, he's gay or only likes redheaded super models, and I'm…I'm just plain, sad little me, with no family and no special talents and not particularly pretty—"

"You're adorable!" John exclaimed, much more loudly than I would have wished.

Ugh, face so hot. So hot. I had started to sweat in various places.

"Thank you?" I kind of squeaked.

Without so much as a warning, and before I could do much else, he pulled me into his arms, nearly lifting me off the ground, and bent down to kiss me hard on the lips.

I had never been kissed before. This was hot and squishy, though the squish only helped so much to hide his teeth. The thought that his teeth might hit mine occurred. I tasted the Father's stew and a bit of roll, as well as something nameless. It wasn't a bad taste, but it wasn't good either. Like licking one's finger.

He tried to do something with his mouth, like trying to tuck into my lips and open them wider, but I was too stunned and, frankly, a little frightened, to even get a clue what he was trying to do.

Finally, he pulled back and set me back down.

"Frick, you're tall," I gasped, breathless. Can't really breathe while someone's face is pressed against yours.

He was still flushed. "I'm sorry for freaking out like that, and I'm sorry if that kiss bugged you, I just…I just really like you. And I guess I'm also really tired and stressed out from watch duty. Seeing someone get strangled isn't the most relaxing thing in the world."

"No it isn't," I said, still at a loss for words.

He looked at me a moment longer, biting his lower lip.

"I'll see you tonight, yeah?"

I smiled, even though my lips felt a little bruised. "Course. Don't think I'll be having fun without you. Naru's going to be working me like a horse."

"Why do you call him that?"

"What?"

"Naru."

"Oh, I thought it would be a good nickname for narcissist, since he's always so full of himself. But it was kind of a bad fit—"

"Yeah. Narc would have worked better."

"But then it would sound like I was calling him a narcoleptic or, I don't know, it just stuck. Now it's almost the only thing he'll respond to when I want him to take me seriously."

I realized that was the wrong thing to say the moment it was out of my mouth.

I threw up my hands between us. "This is Professor Ice we're talking about, man. He can't even date students without getting fired anyways, and I may be adorable to you but that doesn't mean I am to the Ice King."

Takigawa nodded, but the look in his eye didn't leave and the smile he gave me was forced.

"Maybe I'll bring you treat tonight. Would you like that?"

I flushed, "Oh gall, you're going to suck me into a treat war huh?"

He chuckled. At least I got that. "Nah. Just me trying to win your heart. But I won't if it would make you uncomfortable."

But I had meant what I said. Liking or loving or whatever it was I had on the professor would only lead to heartbreak. I didn't want to take that road. And I did hurt for Takigawa's sake.

"I like chocolate Twizzlers," I said. "But they're kind of hard to find. If you're able to find them, I'll be super impressed."

He pulled a face. "I've never even heard of chocolate Twizzlers. Sounds nasty, but, it's your parade."

I shrugged with a smirk. "Takes a refined mind to appreciate chocolate Twizzlers."

"Chocolate Twizzlers it is."

And with that, we waved good-bye (Takigawa moved like he was going to hug me instead but must have thought better of it). Once the door had closed behind him, I went back to the kitchen only to be stopped by John on his way out.

"I put the leftovers in the fridge," he cocked his head to the side. "Are you going to be okay?"

I shrugged. "Boys. Couldn't avoid facing them forever." Then I sighed and just headed back to base to write up the oh so important report.

 **Author's note: this is my second chapter posted today, so go back to 6 if you missed it.**


	8. He Likes the Smell of Dead People

8

Naru gave me a once over as he accepted my laptop with the report written on it. His scarlet eyes gave him a slightly demonic look.

"If you don't want a guy to kiss you, you knee him in the groin. If you're fine with him bruising your mouth, you should go out with him. It's rude to lead him along."

Because my face just hadn't gotten enough blood flow that day.

"I don't see how it's any of your business," I said.

"It's not," he said, eyes scanning over the front page. "I just remember over hot chocolate that you preferred to look at guys rather than touch them. I wouldn't be doing my civic duty if I let a girl get forced upon right next to me."

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't quite find the confidence to quip back about him making it sound like rape. Instead, I found myself mumbling, "Are my lips really that bruised?"

"Swollen and a bit too dark on the red so it's almost violet, but not supremely noticeable, no."

I heaved a sigh of relief.

I flopped down on my cot as the Prof finished reading through my report.

"Well, it's not as scrambled as I thought it would be," he said, after a time. "You took very good notes, I see, that probably helped. And no superfluous word calendar vomit. I can take this."

"I'm so glad you're satisfied," I said flatly. "So, these interviews?"

"Are with the other priests. I have John's and a alter boy's witness, but little else."

Which reminded me. "Oh! Naru, I had one of those dreams! You know, with Gene in it? He actually said he was Gene and everything and we called you a stupid scientist and…"

I trailed off at the flat, icy look he gave me.

"Right. Not important." I cleared my throat and went into what Gene had told and shown me about sacred places being created or destroyed by the living, as spirits simply gather where they think they need to be and don't necessarily change that easily. Not long after I started he pulled over a laptop, opened up a fresh page, and started typing rapidly.

For a minute or so after I finished, he fondled his chin and frowned at the computer.

"That…fills a stupid amount of holes," he muttered. "And makes our job messy."

"Messy?"

"Dealing with a living criminal is for police detectives. Unfortunately, or fortunately, a vision from a psychic or even a take of ghosts isn't evidence enough to arrest someone, let alone even bother looking into the matter." He tapped the enter bar and typed something else. "But it would make sense that someone living would be the culprit, especially since the 'darkening feeling', as Father Brown calls it, comes and goes rather inconsistently. Spirits, if nothing else, are predictable."

"Funny, I thought they'd be the opposite."

"Bad habits die hard. Or in this case, habits period."

"Well, I don't think choking people could be called a habit," I pulled up my blanket a bit more prettily on my bed to give me something to do.

"Ah, that, there, is another clue." He leaned back and let his chair swivel in a slow circle. "The recording actually caught what happened, which is rare, and good for us. I saw how they dissipated about Takigawa. I believe that gives us a reasonable cause to assume that the one who wronged them could share similar traits to me."

I frowned. "Tall, dark, and icey cold?"

I thought I saw a corner of a smile, a real one, and my stomach leapt.

"Roughly. I wrote up a list comparing me to Takigawa. I don't think it's someone who looks exactly like me, as I've never experienced a ghost having that clear of perception on the spiritual plain—so much is affected by perception. But it gives us a direction nonetheless."

He slid his laptop over to me and I took a look at the two columns he made.

Under himself he had dark hair, 5'11, pale skinned, male, light eyed, baritone voice.

Under Takigawa there was blond, 6'3, tanned, male, dark eyed, tenor.

"Can't you think of anything else to add to the list?" he asked.

"I'm still caught up in the fact you can tell the difference between a tenor and a baritone on just speaking tones."

"That is nothing to be impressed by."

"Ok, well," I thought for a moment, picturing them in my mind. "Could it be more than just physical traits?"

"Such as what and why would it be effective," he asked, and suddenly I was back in the classroom.

"Well, it's called the spiritual plain, so wouldn't your spiritual traits have an affect there? Monk is Buddhist and positive about life, and you're…."

"Christian and jaded," said the professor without so much as a twitch.

"You're Christian?"

"In the loosest sense of the term," but he turned back to his list and entered the traits I had suggested. "And it's not a far stretch to assume the person who did this was a Christian in the loosest term too, seeing as they get off on killing boys in a catholic church. Next question we need to find out," he leaned towards his computer, chin resting on his folded hands. "Where are the bodies?"

"We can always start with a missing child list."

"But we have no timeline."

"Yes we do. Our suspect is alive and couldn't be killing kids when he was smaller than them, so we're looking at 80 years."

He gave me one of his special droll looks.

"80 years of missing children is still a lot." He sighed and pulled up google, but hesitated. "I hate this internet."

Oh yeah. I never got my answer to whether wood fluxed differently to temperature changes than granit, though I figured it would be the wood anyways.

"Then there's figuring out which children he killed, when, how," he groaned and ran his hands down his face. "This is why I hate living people. At least when they're dead they're easier to find. Just call them up with a name or whatever."

"You can summon spirits?"

"Yes. I don't advise it. That topic is for next semester's class."

I had seen the title of it too. _Black Magic and Spiritualism_.

"Just for me, though…why is it not a good idea?"

"Because there are a good deal of spirits out there that have ill feelings towards the living. A sort of…jealousy based hatred of sorts. You're more likely to summon one of them, especially as a novice, because they're attention is always glued to the living. Other, more harmless spirits will have either moved on or have their own business to attend to that doesn't have to do with the life they left behind. Or they're simply too lost to notice."

I made an 'O' of understanding and looked back to his blank google page. He had already typed in a search for missing boys between the ages of 12 and 18, but, of course, Grandpa Internet was taking his sweet time.

After several minutes, he let out a frustrated groan and threw his head back.

"I can't work like this," he got up, snapped his laptop close, and kicked his chair back in. "Activity lessens during the day, but I'll ask the father if he can peek in on the camera's every now and then."

"And keep an eye out for a guy fitting your description in case the dark feeling comes back."

He tipped a finger at me. "That too."

With that, I grabbed my laptop and coat as well and followed after the black tails of his trenchcoat. We peeked out into the chapel for the priest, told him we were out to find quicker internet, probably at a local library, and that he was holding down base, along with the description of the guy. He looked surprised by the information overload, but not negatively so. Hopefully Mondays were a slow day for Catholic Churches.

Luckily, the library wasn't all that far away. Soon, the prof and I were settled at a table near the back with our laptops open. He kept his trenchcoat on, though, and his collar up so as to not attract attention to his bruised neck.

We worked out a system where Naru looked up the missing boys, then sent over a list along with their pictures to me to sort out, should any of them look similar to me. I had seen one of them face to face, after all. He also included whether their bodies were found or the suspect convicted. It alarmed me how few were found alive.

"Okay, I can get there are freaks out there who like to do the dirty with boys," I said, sometime later. "But why kill them afterwards? I mean, there's horny and then there's murder, they're like a mile apart from each other."

"No so," answered my professor, blue eyes to the screen. "It's common knowledge that sex and violence are very closely intertwined at times. There's evidence of this in literature and war records and the like. But you hate English."

I scowled at him. "I don't recall ever telling you that."

"With essays like yours? Please."

Just as noon passed us and hunger was starting to settle in, I found him. The boy from my first vision.

Rather than look him up on his computer, Naru just came over to my side, where the picture and his information were enlarged. As his breath brushed past my neck, I could help shivering down to my toes. I wonder what his kisses would be like. Squishy and hot and bruising? Were those the only kind of kisses.

"Perfect. This gives us a time frame."

I blinked out of my rather unhealthy train of thought. "How so?"

He pointed to the year. "He has been missing for ten years and has yet to be found. Not only that but he was last seen in this area. We also have an age to go off of, rather than the more vague 'prepubescent boys.'"

That was true. The blue-eyed brunette with that promising sharp face had been 14. I almost hadn't recognized him as the wide, toothy grin had completely transformed his face, squinting up his eyes and sending rows of hills along his cheeks all the way to his ears.

The long work pressed on. When we had finally picked out all the suspect missing children I was about ready to start chewing on Naru's arm. I was so hungry I felt queasy, and Naru's arm was likely to be tasty, right? Since the rest of him looked tasty.

Ugh, those unhealthy thoughts again.

Thankfully, he stopped by a Chinese takeout place on the way back to church, which, little known to him, saved him from becoming a one armed man.

A few parishioners sat with bowed heads in the pews. All of them were women of mostly later years. Father Brown was up front, replacing unlit candles and dusting the alter.

I trotted up to him, because I was starting to like the guy, you know? "Hey, John."

He turned at my voice and gave yet another happy smile, not just polite. "Hello, Miss Mai. Did you find the information you wanted?"

"More like too much information," I said, rubbing my poor screen bleached eyes. "You said I could have God as a dad, right? Can you give me the first step?"

His smile broadened. "Do you know how to pray?"

"Uh…Dear God, please let me pass this test?"

That made him laugh, a sound that startled a few of the praying old ladies. He quickly quieted.

"Close," he reached into his robes and pulled out a tiny laminated card, which he gave to me. On it was printed what I vaguely recognized as that big main prayer Jesus does, and that's only because I like listen to Andrea Brocelli on occasion and he had done this song version of it that was to die for.

"You don't have to follow this word for word," he said quietly, pointing out the first section. "First, you address God for who He is, our Father in heaven. Then, you thank him for your blessings, including 'daily bread' or food, as listed here and speak with him on people you need to forgive, so that he can forgive you in turn. Then, you can ask him for help with things you're struggling with and go from there. Then the closing is the same."

I stared at the card, trying to see how the phrase 'lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil' translated into 'ask for help and then freestyle'.

"Do I need prayer beads or something?"

"No. It is respectful and helps to put your mind in the right place if you kneel somewhere in private, but some cases don't allow that, in which one must keep as…respectful an attitude, or prayerful, as they can in the situation."

"Huh…" I reread the lines again.

"Father Brown," greeted Naru as he caught up to me.

"Hello, Professor Davis." Polite smile back. "I managed to arrange a meeting with some of the other priests tonight around six. Others you'll have to go to them, as their state of health makes it difficult to leave their homes."

"Thank you. The efforts much appreciated."

"Would you like some tea with that propriety?" I asked Naru in a British accent.

John smiled as though to hold back a chuckle, but Naru ignored me.

"If it is okay with you," he said. "I would like to check out the funeral room one more time."

John covered his mouth, took a deep breath, and when he dropped his hand his face was back to all seriousness. "I'd prefer you didn't go without me, given what happened to you last time."

"I'm coming," I said immediately.

Both John and Naru opened their mouths to protest, but I cut over them.

"I got a vision of one of the missing boys down there. If I can see more of them, we'll have more of a direction in finding tangible evidence." I gave Naru a wry smile. "That is why you brought me on, isn't it?"

Naru scratched the back of his head roughly and sighed. "Yes, you're right. Just don't try to sue me if you upchuck again."

"Isn't that something you should be telling John? It is his church."

"It is owned by the Catholic Church," said John. "I am merely allowed to use and maintain it."

"Yes yes, when will you be finished, Father?"

"No more than half hour."

"That should give us time to gather any measuring tools."

We waved and headed back to base. In there, I fell face first on my cot, blessed relief to close my eyes.

"Did you know there were only 11 separate faces in that recording?"

I made a noise in my pillow that could be interpreted as no.

"And you say you see the boys by the angel statues. Well, there are 12 statues."

I dropped my head to the side. "So?"

"Use your brain, Mai. However much you can."

I sighed. "You're never getting married with that attitude." But I did think on it for a bit.

The angel statues themselves were about the size of toddlers or older babies. The majority of the stone structure was made by the square, tower-like pedestal that held the statues at roughly chest height, at least on me. Why would some murdered boys be attracted too—

"Are those pedestals hollow?" I asked.

"I'm so proud," said Naru, who was leaning over his computer and rewatching the same recording we were talking about.

"So that's why you want to go down there again—to see if the pedestals are hollow, and if they are—"

"—if there's anything inside them." He finished for me, then snapped his laptop closed. The monitors to the cameras weren't on for a moment. It was cool down hour for them, as, with everything else, it didn't do them good to be running the entire time.

That being said, the professor got around to turning on the basement cameras, including the one in the good-bye dead people room. He had called it a funeral room, yeah? Boring.

"Have you heard from Takigawa?" he asked.

I pursed my lips, as I hadn't even bothered to check my phone since this morning. Not really having family or loads of friends can do that to your texting life, though Ayako's commentary was like my daily funny webcomic.

I rolled over to tug it out of my back pocket and take a look.

"Huh. Guess I missed five texts from him."

"Not a good habit to keep up with a boyfriend who has dealt with you peeling the skin off your arms," he said, fine tuning the microphones with one headphone on an ear.

"He's not my boyfriend."

"So you're stringing him along? He didn't force a kiss on you."

"Okay, he kind of did, but he's my friend, and I just—"

"Friends often make the best lovers."

I glared at him, a raw kind of stinging cropping up in my chest. "Why do you care?"

"Because," and he gave me a blank look. "You've seen me put a gun to my head and are still here. If that doesn't make us some kind of friend, then I don't know what would. Acquaintances can't be it."

Heat flooded to my face and the stinging was replaced with warmth. The fuzzy kind that makes you skip and sing 'teedledee.'

"Why didn't you just tell me this earlier?" I asked.

He sighed. "I'm not the type to talk about friendship and butterflies in the first place, let alone with other people around."

"Oo, so serious."

Blank, dry ice look.

"Hey, friends can tease each other," I said.

He snorted. "You tease everyone, if not to their face then in your mind."

I gave a dramatic gasp, hand to my mouth, the whole deal. "Are you…psychic?"

And since he was the professor of psychic research, and I the technical psychic, we both found that question to be slightly humorous, even if I was laughing harder than his under his breath chuckle.

"But, really, Mai," he said, that beautiful smile, small as it was, gone without a trace. "You should make a decision soon or one of you might get hurt."

I looked down at my feet. "I know."

Twenty or so minutes later, we were down in the pretty dead room with Father Brown. A few knocks and a tall tale caulk line told us the pedestals beneath the angel statues were, indeed, hollow.

"I'm going to need a knife," Naru said, already picking at the white caulk that had been applied where the angel's platform met the pedestal.

"This one doesn't have any caulk," I said, since it had been my job to find the unused angel.

John held out a pocket knife to Naru. Naru raised his eyebrow.

"You keep a knife on you, Father?"

The look John gave him was his own flavor of polite dry.

"Have you seen this neighborhood? Besides, they're useful in just about anything."

Naru took the knife. "This case included. Thank you."

Instead of getting started at the statue he had been leaning at, he came over to me and the clean statue and begun to scrape away the caulk on the angel statue next to it. White rubber strips peppered the white marble floor.

"Excuse me for the mess, Father."

"These statues aren't supposed to have caulk on them in the first place, Professor. Therefore, I don't mind in any way."

"Not to mention there's a thing called vacuums? Jeeze, you both deserve tea with the pinky out."

I saw John smile, but Naru was focused on skimming off the white caulk. When it seemed he had gotten off as much as would be possible, him and John took hold of the angel's platform on either side and carefully lifted.

In that instant, a foul, rotten stench burst forth. I retched and John nearly dropped his end of the statue.

The ever cool Professor, however, just narrowed his eyes.

"I think you'll be wanting to call the cops over, Father. Someone has hidden at least one body in your statues."

 **Author's note: this is the third chapter I posted today, so if you've missed the first two go back and read chapter 6 and 7.**


	9. Vomit and Rapists and Boys, oh my!

9

Cell reception didn't reach that room, so John had to go upstairs to make the call. While I kept my hands over my face, Naru moved on to the next statue.

"How can you just go on like that smell is nothing?" I asked.

"I study dead people."

"So does the history professor, but you don't see him exhuming dead bodies like pulling out of date tortillas out of the fridge."

"Exhuming," he said. "Is that one of your vocabulary calendar words?"

I didn't reply. Because yes. Yes it was.

John was back down in the room just in time to help Naru lift off another angel from a pedestal. At least he looked a little green behind his palor, which brought out the freckles on his face like dirt flecks.

"And there's two," said Naru, as though counting flowers. "You doing alright, Father?"

John just nodded, probably afraid of what would happen if he opened his mouth.

There wasn't much I could do but try to get the cellar-like doors open on the other side of the room to let some fresh air in. Of course it was locked.

When Naru got to decaulking the next statue, John handed me a key from a great ring.

"Thanks," I said, hand still to my nose.

Again, he just nodded.

"If you're gonna puke, you might as well go and get it over with."

He blinked at me, then half ran across the room and through the doors we came in through. I couldn't help but smile and sigh at the same time before working on getting the copper key into the doors that might as well be ontop of me. Once I heard a click, I tried to heave them open, but no go. Either they were so heavy you need real muscles to get them up, or I hadn't unlocked them at all.

"Mai, where's Father Brown?"

"Taking care of business, never you mind? You want help getting the statue off."

"That would be appreciated."

So, taking a few clean breaths through my mouth and went over to take hold of one end, because my professor was opening up essentially coffins like Christmas presents, so don't anyone even think of asking him to wait.

"Frick, what is this thing made out of?" We had started to lift and the stone corners were already biting like a boss into my hand.

"White marble," he said, the strain in his voice of course less than mine. "Alabaster would have done just as well, but I suppose this artist was fonder of the first."

Halfway through lowering it to the ground, my arms shaking and burning like a mother, I had to take a fresh gulp of air, this one tainted with the rotten stench. I coughed, my stomach twisting, nearly dropping the angel.

"Oh! Mai, you shouldn't!" Came Father Brown's voice, and he appeared at my side, taking hold of the statue. "Not with your arms still injured."

I would have protested, but now I was the one afraid of opening my mouth. Which was a pity, because I had a nice witty remark to make at Naru for that comment. Making his little weak student do the heavy work with injured arms, just because he was too excited to find dead bodies.

"It looks like they were roughly burned," said Naru, ignoring John's pants. He must have run back. "Then cut apart bone by bone, with whatever flesh was left, and dropped in. Though judging on the smell of the first one we opened, whatever fire source our suspect was using wasn't working on that particular occasion."

I was back at the cellar doors, fighting to get outside. John soon joined me, and with his odd super strength got them open in one great heave. Warmer chapel air came in and we both crawled out to open the front chapel doors.

We watch police cars, lights flashing, round the corner as we caught our breaths. Fresh air at last.

"That Professor Davis," panted John. "Sure is something. He hasn't even flinched."

"Forget him, you're the something. You've got freaking superman arms. That baby face of yours is very misleading."

I thought I could make out his ears pinkening as he smiled awkwardly and thanked me for the compliment, but then counter acted me by saying my arms were injured still so of course his strength would seem greater.

Before I could push him over with my shoulder for that, we had about five cops rushing up the chapel steps with a few more still getting out of their cars.

"You're Father Brown? You said there were bodies?"

John nodded and pointed to the open oak doors on the tile floor. By now the few parishioners had filled in the back pews, curious and muttering to one another. There was a palpable rise in excitement at the mention of bodies.

John and I didn't bother to follow as the police ducked into the good-bye room one after the other. Naru would have plenty of help opening up his presents now.

With another gulp of air, I waddled to the nearest wall of stone and slid down it, my arms still stinging and protesting. Despite having left the smell, it still stained the insides of my nostrils and I couldn't help feeling more than a little sick. It almost made it hard to breathe.

"Mai? You alright?"

I opened my eyes to give him my most courageous 'I'm totally gonna barf at any moment now, but I'll take it like a boss' look.

Except I didn't see John. I saw a monster of a man looming over me with blurred, darkened features. A cloud must have gone over the after sun, as the shadows stretched towards me and I found I couldn't see very well.

Fear as I had never known it, primitive and base, clawed my throat and turned off my mind.

"Mai?"

The sound of my name gave me the spider's string of sanity to remember this was John. I was just seeing things. This was just a vision.

"I…I'm starting to see things." I squeaked.

Just then, more hulking, manly, terrifying figures appeared about John. The leftover police, perhaps? But all my racing heart would register was _danger. Pain. Danger. Monsters._

The string snapped.

I fled, scrambling half on my hands and feet up the stairs, a wild energy like lightening shooting me forward like a hunted deer. I dropped through the cellar doors, desperate to find Naru, only to find the whole room filled with monstrous male giants, their manhood shadowed, but straight and hard for me to see before them, all aimed at me. The murmuring hum of their voices blurred into groans in my ears, and I began to hear things I had never wanted to hear.

Somewhere beneath it, I heard my name again, but I just ran. Through the doors, past the dead—the sweet, sweet, harmless dead, down the shelves, running through a never ending tunnel—

Then a sharp, wretched agony tore up my legs, rear, and lower back, tumbling me face first into the ground. I tried to get back to my feet, but the pain was too great. My legs only twitched in response, and when I looked back I could see blood pooling around my hips. Though my pants were intact, I had little doubt that, somehow, I had gotten my lower half torn in two.

Gasping, sobbing, I crawled down a dark shelving unit, hoping to hide among the coffins and urns. Even as I neared the cement wall at the end, I felt my throat inflate, gag, choke. Something too large and vile to the taste had taken up the space, and breathing became an impossible fight against my gag reflex. The world spun. A thick, smeared trail of blood had been left behind me. Every ounce of me shook with the effort to breathe, which I soon somehow managed in little sips, though the vile, nasty taste and smell clogging up my mouth, throat, and nose would counteract that breath with a gag.

I clawed at the cool, cinderblock wall. Cool, solid, strong. Foundation stones of a sacred place.

 _God, Father, help me. Save me. Please._

Not a moment longer after I gave that desperate plee, a hand fell on my shoulder and turned me around to face yet another dark beast of a man, threatening, pleased, ready to finish the tearing of my body that had already started.

I screamed. Or rather, I tried to scream. Tears caked my face.

Another man lumbered up behind the first, just as threatening, just as obvious in its dark, shadowed erection.

But it wasn't invasion I got. But a cool finger on my brow, my mind too frantic to make out the symbol.

"In the name and authority of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior, I command thee, oh spirit, to depart from this girl hence with, or may the judgment of hell be upon you. In the name of the son, and the Father, and the Holy Ghost, amen."

The cool moisture on my head seemed to sink through my skin and spread to my limbs. My world swirled, patched with black, and strong arms caught me as I fell to the side, twitching, gasping, and unable to stop the terrified and broken squeaks escaping my throat.

But whatever had filled my throat and mouth vanished, along with the vile taste. I sucked in breath as though I'd never breathe again. The pain in my lower half diminished to a dull throb, and then vanished altogether.

And lastly, I looked up into the pale face of Father Brown and my professor, who, strangely, was holding a trash can.

But it made sense as I felt my stomach hurtling up. John had it down at my lap just in the nick of time.

"Puking seems to be a common theme on this case," said Naru, dry as always.

John shushed him, rather sharply.

"Oh god," I breathed between retches. "Oh, dear god."

"It's okay, now. You're safe." John's hand brushed through my shoulder length hair in stroking, soothing motions. "The scary things are gone. Heavenly Father won't let anything reach you now."

Eyes already watery, I spat out what was left of the vomit in my mouth to look up at him.

"Father?" I whispered.

And the smile he gave me was once more one of those tender, heart breaking ones. The one that swore to me that I was cared for, that I…I was precious.

In a low whisper, so only I could hear, John whispered, "Daddy's will protect their little girls."

Sniffling, nose burning with stomach acid, I pushed aside the vomit filled trash can and threw my arms around his neck, sobbing uncontrollably.

"There's something wrong with me," I wailed. "It hurt so bad. There was so much blood and there were these monsters everywhere coming to rape me until they tore me in two or suffocated me. Big, scary—I don't want to be here anymore. I want to go home. I don't want to be crazy."

"Shh. There's no blood. You can see for yourself. You're perfectly fine."

And from over his shoulder I could see the truth of that. The tiled flooring had not a speck of scarlet.

"Hey, is she okay?" echoed down the hall.

I tensed at the unfamiliar, male voice.

"We have it under control," Naru shouted back, to be sure he was heard. "It's best that you don't come any closer. Just focus on your job."

"Uh, right, sir. I apologize."

But I was saved from seeing yet another man, and that's what was important.

When I finally pulled back from John to wipe my nose with my sleeve, Naru was there at his side, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pressed thin.

"You aren't crazy," he handed me a handkerchief. "Crazy would not have vanished with an exorcism."

I sniffed, but just kept sobbing some more. At least I had the handkerchief to stem the flow of snot from my nose. John and Naru were patient, crouched besides me with John ever so often stroking my hair in a soothing matter.

"You did just fine," John murmured. "None of this is your fault. You're going to be okay, I promise."

And as he said that, he slipped a rosary from around his neck and put it over mine, along with another stroke of my hair.

I took a deep, steadying breath.

"Good girl," John murmured.

Naru put a hand on John's shoulder. As though through some kind of man to man telepathy, John instantly stood and stepped aside, allowing Naru to come forth and bring his arms around me. Next thing I knew, I was being carried against the warmth of his chest, the smell of leather and dusk washing away any foulness that had managed to cling on.

On any normal occasion, I would protest that I could walk. Fiercly independent by nature (how else could I have turned out having to take care of myself and be the adult since I was 14), being carried was rather new to me. But the combination of Naru's warmth and smell, mixed with that indefinable feeling of peace and safety and belonging, erased any intentions I had of doing so. Instead, I nuzzled my face against his neck and hugged my arms about him.

Back at base, he carefully set me down in my cot. John had trailed after him.

Naru kneeled by the cot, his expression unreadable and set in stone.

"Mai, can you tell me anything else about that experience?"

I shuddered and started to yammer. "Rape, erection—so gross, I didn't want to see—filling my throat and mouth and vile and I wanted to puke but I had to breathe and legs torn apart till my very back was being yanked in two—"

"Stop," said John quietly. "She has been through enough."

But Naru's still had his stony face set on me. I found I didn't like it. Not at all. It scared me, and made me feel cold.

"Can you remember the taste and smell?"

I hugged my knees in. "If I have to…"

"Good. That may be important." He hesitated. "Are you still hurting anywhere?"

Besides my muscles aching from having spazed out, no, thankfully. It was bizarre how so much pain came and went so quickly. One minute my body was on fire. The next, I could've just exercised the day before.

"Why am I getting possessed in the first place?" I asked instead. "I thought I just…foresaw things, not carry a huge vacancy sign over my head."

"Because you're not just clairvoyant," said Naru, his eyebrows furrowed as though troubled by this. "You are proving to have at least a low level of medium abilities. Anyone who is susceptible to it can be possessed. But you are repeatedly the target, and, I suspect, you may have spoken the words of said spirit before as well."

I blanched. "Can I—can I uncheck that box? The weird dreams and visions were enough, really."

He gave me a straight lip smile that could have been sympathetic, but since it wasn't an actual smile I was probably the only one who thought that.

"Shouldn't she be sent home?" asked John, rather plaintively. "She's been through more than enough, and you must have enough clues by now."

"Indeed, the picture is becoming clearer," Naru swiveled in his chair towards his laptop. "We have found the bodies and soon will have autopsy reports. We know the suspect is living. Also, we now know that the victims were violently raped by a male before their death."

John and I both stiffened.

"And Mai just experienced this," said John, his voice thin. "You should let her go home."

"To whom? She has no family, and her roommate is off on a field trip to Vegas with her human anatomy class. The cadaver exhibit there is quite extensive."

"Oh, so that's why you didn't invite her," I said, doing my best to ignore the open pity John now looked at me with.

"Not to mention this is an urban case, with no plant-life to worry about, and," he took a slow breath. "She irritates the hell out of me. But back to the subject of what we have discovered."

We went through the characteristics the suspect was supposed to have or could likely have once more, the number of bodies, the ages (as best we can, the autopsy report wouldn't be released till the end of this week), the way in which the bodies had been disposed of after being violently molested, the significance of the angel statues being twelve with one left empty, my vision and possession, and finally on the preparation of question to ask of the older priests who would be arriving in ten minutes.

"Not all of this is tangible evidence, so it won't work in court," Naru said. "So a testimony from the priests will give us more leverage. Have you felt anything out of the ordinary while doing your tasks?" he asked John.

John shook his head, looking regretful as he did so. "I should probably head back and keep an eye out for that. I've already told my brethren to meet you in this room. There should be enough chairs…"

"Excellent. Thank you."

John looked back to me before standing up. He crossed the room, but hesitated at the door.

"Does…does she have any friends she can stay with?" he asked.

The almost pleading tone in his voice made me flush with shame.

"I mean," John added quickly, as though to fix an offense. "She's so friendly and charismatic and funny, I can't comprehend there not being a least a few people willing to keep her company until this case is over."

Too embarrassed to come up with a comeback to that, I pulled my blanket over my head so neither of them would see my shame.

"Father," said Naru, calmly, quietly. "There is a lot about my student that you are unaware of. At least take comfort in the fact that I will take care of her. Besides, one of said friends should be returning this evening."

John sort of winced. "That, uh, Taki fellow?"

"Yes."

John didn't look comforted. In fact, he just looked more worried. As he looked my way again, I made sure my face was still hidden, blocking whatever else I could see.

"Then…please be sure to try and pray, Miss Mai. I'll get you some scriptures the first chance I get."

My chin wrinkled up. "Thank you, John."

And with that, I heard the door close, signaling John heading back to his priestly duties in the chapel.

The clicking of Naru's typing filled the silence. A few minutes later, the heater kicked on with a homey rumble and I thought it safe to at least pull the blanket back enough so I could see. Not soon after that, Naru got up and started setting up the folding chairs that had been stacked against the wall.

"Naru," I said, after particularly squeaky chair.

"Yes?"

"…I…I don't think I liked how Takigawa kissed me. It kind of hurt…and he kept doing weird things too I didn't get."

Naru paused after unfolding the fourth chair. Four seemed to satisfy him, for he came back to his office chair, which he turned to face me, expression unreadable.

"Then you should take that into account in whether or not you want to date him, especially if you say you don't particularly like him above friend status."

"It's more than that," I said, feeling so small and vulnerable. I just wanted to hide beneath this blanket forever. "I…I am in love with someone, but I don't want to be. If dating Takigawa will make me forget about him and move on—

"Are your feelings really that transient?" and his tone was tinged with disbelief.

"No! It's just…" I put the blanket over my face again. "I don't have a chance with him. No chance in hell. And it just hurts. I want to stop hurting."

"Does Takigawa know this?"

"Yes, and he seems confident he can make me forget about him. But…" and I couldn't help but peer up beneath the rim of the blanket to Naru's beautiful, glacier blue eyes. "There's this…really, really stupid, and possibly masochistic part of me that thinks that, maybe, he might…I don't know…notice me? Maybe…"

I couldn't speak beyond that. My throat had tightened and I suddenly felt more uncomfortable than I had in my life.

Naru didn't seem much fazed by this. There was no pursed lips, no rolling of the eyes, and no sympathy. In fact, he just turned back to his laptop, probably to recheck the questions he wanted to ask the priests.

"And what's stopping you from pursuing said unattainable guy?" he asked. "Is he a celebrity? A close family relative? Somebody else's spouse?"

"NO!" I all but screeched, then, even more ashamed, dropped my face into my hands. "No…he's single and everything…but…"

A pause in the keyboard clicking. "But?"

"He's…like one hundred times out of my league."

Naru sighed, and the clicking of the keyboard resumed.

"He can't be too much out of your league," and I could tell he said it with only half of his attention. "Birds of a feather flock together. People are attracted to those that are alike them in some crucial way. If nothing else, his looks or prestige shouldn't play a factor in whether or not you try for him."

Easy for him to say.

"Have you ever been in love with a girl anyhow?" I asked. "No offense, but I don't think you're qualified to give me advice on this."

That made him pause again, and he looked off to the side, as though combing through his memories for a long lost time.

"Yes," he said slowly.

"Then why aren't _you_ with her?"

"Because there are a lot of unpleasant things I'm hiding in my closet," he said, rather shortly. "I respect her enough to not make her deal with those skeletons. And…" another sigh, a hand to his eyes. "I'm not a nice person. I'm not caring, I'm not gentle or kind. I'm a workaholic, I'm cold, I'm anti-social, and frankly sometimes downright cruel." He lowered his hand, blue eyes blank to the screen. "Like I'd ever make her live through something like me. Especially not her. She's been through enough."

His voice had gone so quiet, he ended in a whisper.

And here I was getting chills that my smart-ass, smack talking professor could speak of a girl like that. He almost sounded tender. Like hell he'd be hurting her by dating her. Just talk all squishy like that and she'll melt onto the floor, squawking to be ravished.

But that wasn't what caught me the most.

"You make it sound like this girl is still around? As in you're still in contact with her?"

He just shrugged to this. "Would you mind getting some water bottles from the fridge for our guests?"

I got up to do just that, though leaving my safe little cave of warmth left me chilled and naked feeling.

"I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit," I said from the doorway.

I got a snort for that. "And look who's talking."


	10. Little Old, Oldish, Grumpy, & Super Old

10

The four priests that came ranged between stoutly middle aged and wizened. They sat youngest to oldest without needing to talk, and I inwardly made cackles at that. It was so obvious. John must look like a humored child among them.

And so he did, standing against the door before one of the older priests snapped at him to see to the chapel. The second to the super old one. The super old one looked like half his flesh had sucked away, showing the lines of his skull and hands that peeked out from the sleeves of his robe. Yeah, get that, they came fully dressed. Maybe priestly robes were comfy. Like Jawa suits.

Naru started by asking if they had felt what John had referred to as a 'darkening.' This seemed to annoy the second to oldest, who was quickly becoming Mr. Grumpy in my book.

"Like we would allow him to call in the likes of you unless we had," he said.

I couldn't help myself. "What are you, Prof, a Jew?"

That made all four priests flinch and stare at me, flabbergasted and offended.

Yeah…I made a Jew joke.

"Mai,"

"Yes, Prof?"

"Keep your mouth shut until this meeting is over."

I saluted. "Yes, sir." But I did meet the eyes of Mr. Grumpy. Like I'd be quiet while he badmouthed Naru. I'd make as many Jew jokes as it took.

"You hardly look old enough to be a professor in anything, and fresh from a fight, no less," said the younger priest to the left of Mr. Grumpy, frowning through one of those faces that, no matter how many times you shaved, there was always the shadow of stubble. His salt and pepper hair was quiet well groomed though, and I suspected the old spice I smelled came from him.

"Then pretend I'm just student asking the questions for the professor," said Naru, nonplussed.

And he went on with his questions as though no slandering had occurred. Each of the priests nodded to feeling the darkening, and one even spoke of the catacombs becoming so cold once he could see his breath, though the heater had been on and it had been noon outside. As for the likelyhood of one of their parishioners, or even one of them, could be the suspect, they all clamped their mouths.

"That you would even suppose…" said the youngest, who still had brown hair, despite the streaks of gray.

"I just read an article last week about the Pope making apologies for the rash of sexual molestation among priests towards altar boys and nuns," said the Prof, conversationally. "But no, I do not think it is one of you. Otherwise we would have had a greater reaction when I had John walk you through the funeral room."

True. If Naru just looked like the guy and got strangled for it…

"It's not possible for there to be malevolent spirits here," said the second to oldest.

I bit my lip back from saying they had just mentioning allowing John to call Naru in. You know, Mr. Spirit Professor of Ra?

"And I wouldn't say they are malevolent," said Naru. "The spirits we have detected are all young boys who have been violently raped and murdered. They seek justice, not the suffering of others…yet."

"And just what are you implying by that?" asked the youngest.

"If spirits linger too long in one place, they begin to be affected by their surroundings, and with parishioners coming in to confess their sins, or better yet, to hold to their sins while hoping to repent on their own…"

"Then we'll just exorcise the lot of them," said the second to oldest, Mr. Grumpy.

"No."

It was the first time the eldest of the priests had spoken. Despite his skeletal appearance, his voice was strong and firm.

"Have you not been listening," he said, giving the other three a rebuking look. "The suspect that has done these horrible things is still on the loose. Those innocent boys don't deserve to be exorcised just because they are hoping for restitution."

That quieted the lot of them. Mr. Grumpy even looked to the floor.

The bony old man face Naru, giving him a gentle look. "Who are we looking for? What do you want from us?"

Naru told him about his hypothesis about the appearance of the perpetrator, as well as learning more when the autopsy's come back with the identity of the boys. So far, though, he only had one, and he handed and enlarged picture of the grinning boy I had identified to the eldest priest, whose eyes widened.

"Christopher," and for a brief second, his strong voice rasped. "But…he should be graduated from seminary, tending to his own flock, or maybe even married." He looked back up at Naru, eyes bright. "He's dead?"

"And missing for ten years, till now."

Mr. Grumpy took the picture.

"How could we not have heard of this?"

"I take it you know him well."

"Of course," said Mr. Grumpy, though the other two priests looked a little out of the loop. "Christopher was one of our most promising altar boys. We all gave high recommendations to the seminary of his choosing when he stepped down to become a priest."

"Is there an age limit to alter boys?"

The youngest sort of frowned. "Not usually, but we try to encourage the young men of the community to serve until they're getting ready for college. It keeps them out of trouble, and technically the positions are taken by adult acolytes."

The others nodded their agreement, muttering things like 'this neighborhood' and 'the temptations these days.'

"He he left at 14?" he asked.

"He was invited to a private Catholic high school in, what, Main? Or Virginia."

"Somewhere in the east," said Mr. Grumpy flippantly.

"Brother Brown came from somewhere similar," added the youngest.

"It's the best route for the youth to get their basic education as well as preliminary training to becoming part of the clergy."

"But they're highly selective," said the oldest.

"And our church has had many find young men accepted," said the second to youngest, swelling with pride.

I saw a flash and narrowing of Naru's eyes.

"Who else has access to the chapel's keys, more specifically, to the catacombs and funeral room?"

"Just us," said Mr. Grumpy. "We have, what, two sets that we share around?"

"But their use to be three," said the eldest, so quietly the other priests almost went on without noticing.

But Naru jumped on that. "What happened to the third set?"

The elderly man wagged his head, seemingly suddenly tired and worn by woes. "It was so many years ago I paid it no heed."

"How long would you say?"

He shrugged his narrow shoulders. "I can't say. Decades."

"And have the acceptance or invitations from these Catholic schools increased in the past few decades? Let's say 20 years."

Mr. Grumpy snorted. "You're expecting us to remember what application levels were like twenty years ago or more?"

"Do you at least have them written down somewhere?" Naru asked, barely containing his exasperation.

"That would encourage pride and vanity," said the older priest. "It is better for God's servants to remain nameless to the world and not be showered with praise for their faithfulness. God rewards their efforts in his own ways."

The second to youngest, however, was squirming.

"I…I kept track," he said, face down.

All the priests looked at him, shocked.

"I thought if I just wrote it down in my personal journal, it wouldn't be a temptation of pride for them," he said quickly.

"But a temptation for you," said the youngest, shaking his head.

"That was unwise," said Mr. Grumpy.

"Or just what we need," the Professor leaned forward, scarlet eyes to the second youngest, hands folded tight enough I heard a knuckle pop. "Could you give me a list of these boys? Or at least the number of them."

"If it will make up for what I've done, certainly. There should be about 12 or 13, all in the last ten years or so."

Naru and I exchanged glances. That couldn't be a coincidence.

"I'll be depending on you for that list at your earliest convenience," said Naru. "In the meantime, I have just two more questions left."

"Thank the Lord," muttered Mr. Grumpy under his breath. That got him a scolding glare from the eldest priest next to him.

"First, your original hair colors. Then," and his eyes narrowed at this. "Have you had any dissenters? Priest or other such clergymen who left the service?"

The eldest of the priests, who was bald, chuckled a bit. "I started balding when I was twenty-four. I can barely remember, but I think it was kind of a brown."

"Ginger," said Mr. Grumpy.

"Blond," said the one who had the list.

"You can still see mine," said the youngest, even presenting his head and parting his hair for them to view.

"And dissenters…." The eldest tapped his chin. "There were some in my lifetime, but they were few and far inbetween. In the last twenty years? It's actually been rather quiet. If a priest is going to apostasies, he has plenty of opportunity to do so while he is in Seminary. Heaven knows what those boys get into."

"There was Jared," said Mr. Grumpy.

"He didn't apostasies," said once-blond-journal-guy. "He got acquitted for marriage before coming here. He's one of our most devoted acolytes, and you, young man, better not start suspecting him for doing those terrible things to those boys. His wife recently left him to join the Mormons." He made an ugly snort, grunt noise. "Blasphemers."

"So you're saying he's been through enough?"

"And is kind as they come," said Mr. Grumpy.

The eldest and youngest priests, however, said nothing. Their attention was elsewhere.

"May we return to our lives now?" asked Mr. Grumpy.

"Yes, I believe that is enough." Naru close the black notebook he had been making notes in. "This has been…very enlightening."

The way they looked at him and stood up gave me the feeling they were called 'enlightening' on a daily basis, being priests and all.

Just as they all left, the once-blond, second youngest priest return, expression troubled.

"Professor," he said, with a nod of his head. "There…there is something."

Naru put his notebook on his desk. "Yes?"

"One of our boys was accepted recently. Fourteen. It's only been a week, I can get you in touch with his mother."

"That would be most appreciated, but why are you so concerned?"

The priest scowled. "I'm not stupid. You're linking our altar boys to these heinous killings. There were eleven filled statues. I've recorded 12 or 13, but I'm starting to lean towards 12, of them being transferred over the last ten or so years. If the evil man is using the transfers as his chance to get to the boys…" he went quiet, not needing to finish.

Naru met his gaze steadily. But, he then closed his eyes and shook his head.

"If he is still alive, that will be for the police to find, not me. I simply work with the supernatural."

The priest didn't seem to buy that. "You don't have to be the police to do the right thing."

Naru raised an eyebrow and folded his arms. "But you have to be police to pry into people's privacy without getting a restraining order. I know my job, Father."

The priest nodded, not looking satisfied at all, and turned to leave with a promise to bring the list by later.

The moment the door was closed, I let out a heave of breath.

"Gal, my mouth, my teeth. Do you have any idea how painful it was to keep all those Jew jokes back?"

"Don't even mention that," Naru all but snapped. "That was highly inappropriate. I was ashamed to be in the same room as you."

I frowned, stung. "But they started it, talking down to you and—"

"And I'm use to it." His sharp blue eyes narrowed on me. "You were protecting no one."

I did wilt at that. My blanket cave was calling to me again.

"I'm sorry." I bowed my head.

"At least you're that." He turned back to his laptop, his notebook open and his smartphone in his hand. "Shouldn't you be waiting for your boyfriend at the door?"

"He's not my boyfriend."

Naru didn't answer, as he already had the phone to his ear.

Embarrassed, hurt, angry, I stuck my tongue at him and stomped out of the room.

I had only just reached the kitchen area when the door at the end of the hall opened and Takigawa shuffled through with a flurry of snow.

"Whew, weather's turned gnarly." He caught the look on my face. "You alright?"

"The Prof's a jerk," I said.

"Yes, what else is new?"

"Nothing. He just…I don't want to talk about it."

"Alright. Then how about this?" And from inside his coat he pulled out a package of chocolate Twizzlers.

I instantly perked up. "You found them?"

"Yeah, and it wasn't easy."

"Have you tried one?"

"Not sure I want to."

From there, I proceeded to tear open the package and force Twizzlers against his teeth. Rape by chocolate. Of course Takigawa thought the stuff was nasty, but that just meant more for me, and when John came by to check up on us he tried one and actually liked it, so there!

"They're not even chocolate," Takigawa protested. "They're just flavored."

"And it's good." I took a bite out of three at a time. "Thanks a bunch!"

He gave me a broad, toothy smile. "Hey, anything for my Mai."

I kinda giggled at that. "My my." My Mai.

Eventually John ducked out for evening mass and Takigawa and I headed back to base.

But when we got there, it was to find half our equipment was already down and packed.

"We got our list," said the Prof. "I found all the boys on the missing children's list. There were twelve."

"What are you doing?" I asked as he pulled out the cables from yet another monitor and slipped it into its protected box.

"We've done our part," he said. "This is in the police's jurisdiction now."

"But what about that twelfth boy?"

"His parents filed a missing persons report on him two days ago," some more squeak of Styrofoam as another monitor came down. "It's most likely he is dead and the killer was waiting for us to clear out to put his remains in the last angel. Serial killers are psychotic like that. Have to have all the pieces in place, the patterns just right."

He was mumbling by that point. Takigawa and I exchanged glances. Takigawa's eyebrows rose high at the look on mine.

"Uh, whatever you're thinking, it's probably not a good idea. The Prof is right."

I strode to Naru's computer and notebook. "What's Jared's picture? Where does he live?"

"Like I'd have that information," said Naru. "And shouldn't you be gathering cameras? Takigawa, you take the basement. I'd rather not have Mai possessed again."

Takigawa flinched. "Wait, she was possessed while I was gone?"

"I know him."

All of us turned to the open door, where John stood, supposedly suppose to be doing evening mass, pale and mouth thin.

"I know the acolyte Jared and where he lives," he said.

"Whoa, what's making you all gun ho?" asked Takigawa.

"Yeah, you weren't even here for the interview," I said.

"I heard from Father Benedict," said John. "A visit shouldn't hurt. Not if we hurry. It's still only seven o' clock."

Takigawa and I looked at each other. Then we looked at Naru, who had only paused for a moment in his collapsing of base at this info.

Biting my lip, I approached him, clutching my hands.

"Hey, um, Boss? How long would it take for the police to get a search warrant on him? Have they even come to the same conclusion as you?"

He dropped a microphone rather hard. "There's no solid evidence connecting him. It's all circumstantial."

"Then it wouldn't hurt to say hi," said John.

Naru heaved a sigh, hands on his knees. He scratched the back of his head hard, something I noticed he did when frustrated.

"Why do I feel like this will be more than a visit?" He turned around, expression the same cold glare he gave all us poor students. "Fine. We'll say hi. But then what do you think you'll do? Start yelling for the boy? Slip past him? What do you plan on saying to him?"

"Hey, do you like to rape and murder little boys?" I said.

Another heavy sigh, the quick ones, reserved for my specific kind of stupid.

"Fine," he looked up. "I hope you're done with your tasks, Father, because I have little patience and a lot of clean up to do."

"To the rape van!" I crowed.

That got Naru starting. "What the hell—"

Takigawa whooped. "Yay! Rape van!"

And before Naru or John could say anything to that, both of us were out of there and running to the blackety black black van, with few windows and the potential to kidnap 26 people, especially since all the tech gear was still inside the Church.


	11. Time to Pew Pew Some Butts

**I miss my hubby. I wish he didn't have to work such long hours. Booooooyyyyy.**

11

The snow flurries quickly turned to a blizzard. The streets were relatively clear, in part due to the traffic not allowing it to be otherwise and the snowplows coming by every fifteen minutes, but everyone drove like a senior citizen who was half blind, had only one arm, and a dog trying to pee on their lap.

"Come on people, we've got a freaking MURDERER TO DEAL WITH!"

"Mai," came Naru's cool voice. "Sit down and buckle up."

"Like I need a buckle going at fifteen miles per hour—oh look! It almost got to twenty."

Takigawa's foot was jumping against the back of my seat. "Ugh, maybe we should have walked."

Meanwhile, John had his head bowed and his hands folded. Though for the first bit of our trip had been taken up with him munching on a handful of chocolate Twizzlers. Good boy. Accept the Twizzler brainwash.

"It shouldn't be too far now," he said.

"Could we run there in five minutes or less?"

"I wouldn't advise it. The neighborhood there is so crowded the sidewalks are almost one with the street, and with this blizzard it wouldn't be safe."

"Yeah, it's not safe to be stuck in a house with a rapist either," I said

"Circumstantial evidence," Naru said tersely. "Don't go accusing strangers without anything to prove it."

"He's got a point, Mai," said Takigawa. "We'd be stupid lucky to get it right on the first guess."

"Or unlucky," said Naru. "Murdering rapists aren't exactly happy company."

"Yeah, but there's four of us and one of him."

"How do you know?" Naru looked up sharply in the rearview mirror, meeting my eyes. "Don't let the occasional bursts of your clairvoyance make you cocky. You still don't have any idea of how to verify if the boy is in there or not. Or if the man's armed."

"Chance," said John. "The boy's name is Joshua Chance Deckard."

"What, does his dad have the same first name as him?"

"Joshua is his christening name," said Naru. Ever the one to point out our stupidity.

"Sacred name, got it."

John sighed, and I wondered if I was pushing my dry humor too far in this situation.

"Guns do have an equalizing effect," said Takigawa, head thrown over the back seat.

"The Prof has one," I said.

"Meh?"

"Mai. Please, shut up."

"Yes, sir."

"You have a gun? Do you conceal and carry? How does she know this?"

Naru groaned. "Lin insisted on it, I usually keep it in the van, and I am not going to go around shooting people with it, _Mai Taniyama_."

Nevertheless, I fell sideways on the van seat, firing a finger gun as I went. What can I say, sometimes I can get a bit silly when I'm scared out of my mind.

And I was. I could still feel the invading staff tearing me in two and gagging me to death. I could still see the boy's blue eyes reflecting back all the gaudy glamour, something white pouring from his mouth.

At yet another red light, Naru dropped his forehead to the steering wheel.

"Why am I doing this?"

"Because you're a good man," said John, unfolding one of his hands to put to Naru's back. "And if there's even a chance, you can't ignore it."

Naru snorted. "I think it's more like peer pressure. We should have just called the cops."

"And they always come too late," said John, grimly.

Nobody answered to that.

When the van finally parked on the side of the road, my silliness box had been crushed by the pressure on my throat and lungs. I found it hard to breathe deep, and my hands were shaking, the veins vivid and purple through my pale skin.

"Mai, stay here."

I flinched. "Excuse me?"

Naru gave me the 'you're an idiot' look to end all idiot looks. "A half hour ago you blurted out a Jew joke to Catholic priests in the heat of the moment. This is going to be a delicate situation whether we are right or wrong, and I'd rather not have your blabber mouth screwing us over."

Wow, Naru was using commoner language. He must be beyond majorly pissed.

"I suggest you should stay too, Father. He may grow alarmed if he sees a priest on his doorstep. And you can keep an eye on Mai."

"Hey! I'm nineteen, not two!" I protested.

"I was thinking the same," said John, though his grim face said he didn't like it. "And I can back you up if anything goes wrong."

Naru nodded. "Come on, Takigawa."

"What, am I your muscle man now?"

"Might as well be, for all the intelligence you have."

"Ouch. Prof, that's sharp even for you." He glanced at me as he crawled out from the back of the van. "You've seriously pissed him off."

To that, I just sighed. Pissing off my professor had already been established as part of my life.

It wasn't till Naru closed the door behind him did I wonder if he had his gun on him. Heart jumping to my throat, I started climbing over seats, looking under and around them.

"What are you doing?" asked John.

"His gun," I said breathlessly. "I need to make sure he took his gun."

It took some time (dang van big enough to kidnap 26 people), but I found a black metal case underneath the driver's seat. Hands shaking, I flicked open the latch (just a simple latch?), to reveal an all too familiar, black pistol.

John flinched at my loud curse.

"Gene's right about him," I growled, taking out the gun and popping out the magazine. It was about the only thing I knew how to do with it besides switch the 'pew pew' to 'no pew pew' and vice versa. Copper tipped, brass bullets twinkled back at me in the dim street light.

"Gene?" John asked. "Mai, what are you—"

I smacked the magazine back in and used the orange street lamp to switch to 'pew pew.'

"I'm probably going to go rescue an idiot."

With that, I hauled open the van door, gun pointed up.

"Mai! No, you can't just go around with a gun—we have to—"

I slammed the door close. John practically fell out into the snow after me from the passenger's side. "Mai!"

"If you're so worried, go in front of me and help me hide it," I snapped. I guess after the silly coping being scared just made me mad. At least I hadn't fallen to pieces yet.

And since I, well, had a gun and probably a look of murder, John bit his lip and begun his way up the stairs.

The apartment building was one of those old brick monsters with wrought iron stairs leading to each landing of doors. I winced at the loud thud of our feet on the steps and the squeal-crunch of snow, but it couldn't be helped.

And just as I dropped my foot on the second step to a landing halfway up, I heard a muffled 'pop pop,' like a distant car backfiring or kids hitting something with big sticks.

"Oh God," I ran past John.

"Mai! Don't run, you could—"

"Number 56, right?"

But I didn't wait to hear his answer. I just ran, footsteps pounding, pistol heavy in my cold, half numb hand. Wind howled in my ears. Snowflakes gathered in my eyelashes, melting against the warmth of my face. Only a few porch lights left on lit my way.

I slid to a stop in front of 56 to find the door slightly ajar. Yellow light painted a line on the doorframe, and I thought I could smell many meals of Hamburger Helper and perhaps a tainting of fireworks—or I guess that would be gun powder.

Slowly, quiet as death, my heart in my mouth, I edged to the door, pistol held up in my awkward hands.

A brush of warm breeze passed by my ear. A breath of thought went through my mind.

 _I said he needed you, but not this way._

Should have been more clear then, Gene dear.

I gently laid my back against the door. The hinges creaked ever so quietly before the door more or less ran from me and tapped against the wall.

I walked into a living room with a ratty brown couch and mismatching everything else. The paintings were sunbleached, the ceiling water stained near the window, the walls yellowed by the lone old lamp glowing on a nightstand.

And slumped against the couch and face first on the floor, were Naru and Takigawa, splattered with blood.

My brain started screaming, but my heart went cold. I stepped across the living room to the hall, where another light was on. I heard panting. Then a whimper and a slap.

Right as I reached the doorway and caught sight of the horror inside, John shouted my name from the doorway.

The middle-aged man snapped his head to me, glasses opaque, balding, nestled onto the lower back of a splay-legged, tied and gagged teenage boy.

I didn't think. I just pointed and shot.

The man screamed and dropped to his knee, blood blossoming from one of his copious buttcheeks.

I shot again, just to make sure.

" _Mai!"_

The gun was yanked from my stinging hands.

But the damage was done. The middle-aged, dark-haired and bearded man that I saw the first time I had visited the chapel was on his side, yelling in pain as his buttcheek and thigh spouted blood onto the floor. A good way for justice, since he made so many boys bleed in the same way.

The young boy in question, blood on his bare rear, curled in on himself, face smothered in snot and tears. His dark eyes found mine.

"Chance," cried John, leaping to his side.

And since John was distracted, I gave the bleeding dirtbag a kick to the back of the head so he'd stop squirming and wailing like a wimp. It took all my will to not keep on kicking.


	12. Keep a Screaming Head

**I don't know why I want to be rid of this story. Perhaps it's because I'm discouraged that my stories do anything at all. I feel like I'm being a bad writer by writing fanfictions, even though I enjoy it. But what can it do to help me achieve my dream? Though, none of you want to hear my whining. I guess that's why I often skip over author's notes.**

12

My brain continued to scream as I turned Naru over and took up his head into my arms. He cried out in pain, and I found the bullet wound in the right side of his chest. It was difficult to tell where the blood came from when one wore all black.

"I'm still alive, thank you." He coughed. "You can stop testing and start doing something about it?"

But I couldn't. My brain was still screaming. My hands had blood on them. Takigawa hadn't moved from his half-slumped position on the couch. Where his head rested on it was red.

"Mai, pressure, you know how to do that, right? Get a cloth or something."

Screaming. Screaming. Like a robot following tapped keys, I yanked off my white sweater and stuffed it against his shoulder, hard. His pained, clenched teeth shouts made the screaming in my head louder.

"On…on the other side," he gasped. "Bullet went through."

I stuffed the fluffy sleeves beneath his shoulder.

Somehow, through all this, my professor managed to give me a straight, tight smile.

"I figured if I…pretended to be out," he said. "You'd come up eventually with that damn gun." He hissed through his teeth. "Never a good idea to keep fighting a guy after you've been shot. How's the kid?"

I looked at Takigawa again. Pale. Unmoving. Blood drenching the sofa behind him. Screaming.

I was as good as mute.

"Mai?" he touched the hand pressing on his shoulder.

John came through, holding up the boy Chance over his shoulder, having dressed him in whatever he could find, which looked rather overlarge. He settled the boy next to me so he could take Naru's other side.

"Professor, you should put up your legs."

"I'm not in shock," he said, though his words gurgled a bit and he started to cough. Blood splattered up the bandages of my arms holding down on the sweater.

"I've already called for the police and an ambulance," said John, as pale as Naru and shaking as hard. Naru's pistol had been tucked into the belt of his jeans. "You just keep up on that pressure, okay Mai?"

Screaming. I just looked at him.

But John got up to check on Takigawa at least. He moved his neck as little as possible to see what kind of head wound he was dealing with, then lifted both eyelids and checked his pulse.

"He's okay too, Mai," though I don't know why he was telling me. I was just a screaming vortex. Not even human anymore.

Naru's hand never left the top of mine.

Time passed. What was time? Figures flooded in, brushed with snow, wearing matching jackets and uniforms and logos. They had to more or less tug me off of Naru in order to get to him. My arms were now thoroughly splattered by the blood he had started to cough out in earnest. A snap of Velcro wrent through my screeching brain as a neck brace was slipped around Takigawa's neck.

One crouched down to talk to me. I realized then that Chance had taken the place of Naru at my side and was staring at the bundled figure as though he too were screaming inside.

The man sighed. "I always hate it when I find kids on these calls."

He took off his poofy coat and threw it over my shoulders before turning around to call others. When I didn't move, it was Chance who gently coaxed my arms into the two large sleeves, even as another figure draped a thick, blue blanket about his shoulders.

Our eyes met. Shivering. Mad. A world of silence only there between our gazes, framed by the screaming and screaming—

I felt myself breathe for the first time.

And started to cry.

Chance, his eyes already swollen, put his hands to my face and said nothing.

Probably thinking we had a special attachment in all this, the emergency personnel kept Chance and I together as they herded us down to the ambulance and sat us on a bench along the side of the ambulance. The gurney filling most of the space held a still unconscious Takigawa.

Time blurred together. I found Chance holding my hand, but barely felt it.

We were taken to the ER in separate rooms. I was examined, then pushed out to another room where a pair of grim men waited, coats gone, badges gleaming. They asked me what happened, asked me why I had gunpowder grazes on my hands, why I had shot the gun, why I was there, how I had gotten there.

And, just as dryly and robotically as I had stuffed my favorite sweater into Naru's wound, I recited it all from the beginning—where I was a parapsychology student that just so happened to have clairvoyance.

As I talked, a nurse came in to remove the bandages from my arms. The cops got a good look at the scarred, stitched up, slightly emaciated arms of mine before listening on. One took notes, and I thought of Naru, cough blood onto my arms.

"He didn't take his gun," I heard, more like an echo. "Idiot scientist."

"So you took it. Why? Were you that certain you'd be met with a threat?"

But what had I been expecting? I had been afraid, that's what I had been. Past silly afraid, past angry afraid, and beyond into a different kind of afraid that froze me harder than diamond and raised up pistols like I was born to it.

Before I could finish, I saw Naru's tight mockery of a smile and the blood on my arms and could push nothing else past my throat but chocking sobs that made me sound like I had been the one coughing blood, not him.

"Can I see my professor?" I somehow managed. "Takigawa?"

One of the men must have been trained to conceal all emotion until a case was through, but the other, a younger fellow, looked nothing but sympathetic.

"Hey, Butch, go find her some hot cocoa or something."

The older cop raised his eyebrows, probably at being ordered about by a junior officer, but sighed, flaring out his mustache, and padded out of the room.

The nurse who had just finished disinfecting my arms again was rewrapping them.

"What happened to your arms?" he asked.

"Another case," I choked. "Possession."

He shook his head. "Ghosts, possessions, psychics, jeeze. I saw in the news people were considering it a legit science now, but, whew, I can't wrap my head around it." He looked up at me with a gentle smile. "I know we should have asked this before, but where are you parents? We've gotten that you live alone and go to college here—"

"Dead." I said. I didn't have much breath to spare.

That made him flinch. "Oh…I'm sorry."

Because what else do you say.

I don't know how long I was kept in that room with those two cops, fed cups of hot cocoa and little sandwiches from the hospital kitchens. At one point I fell asleep against the wall, my eyes aching and stinging from too much crying. I roused only when I felt strong arms slipping under me. Too tired to care where they took me, I fell back into the darkness.

When I opened my eyes, gentle sunlight filtered through sheer curtains onto a gently blue colored room, and the ceiling didn't even have those dumb industrial tiles. The beds were simpler here and the machines were simple and sparse. A couch and chair sat across from me beneath a painting of a girl staring up into a blue sky from a field of sunflowers. All that could be seen of her features were her long brown hair and the white, wide-brimmed hat she wore.

A boy sat on the bed next to me, watching the TV. As I sat up, he turned his attention to me, and I got my first real look at Chance's features.

He was a cute boy, one of those who had taken to puberty well and on time. Wavy black hair curled about his face, which had dimples and a strong chin, but still childish cheeks.

"Mai," he said, and as my name crossed his lips he smiled a soft, fragile little thing. "Do you like cartoons or documentaries?"

I glanced up at the TV to see some unknown cartoon playing on it. The artwork was awful.

"Don't they have anything like anime or the old cartoons in here?" I asked, surprised to find my voice working just fine.

"Nope. Already checked for that. Most of the channels are just stupid cop dramas and weird sci-fi movies that should have never been made. Oh, and infomercials."

"Can't miss out on infomercials."

He nodded and gestured to me.

"Come sit by me. You can see the TV better from here. I also got some snacks from the nurses they told me to share when you woke up."

I did so, finding my legs wobbly, but strong beneath me. I curled up on the mattress, accepted the little bowl of grapes, and turned to the TV.

"This cartoon looks a little…underfunded?"

"Yeah, the art style sucks," he said. "But the story is surprisingly deep. It's called Adventure Time. I'm guessing you've never seen it?"

I shook my head. "I'm from the Ed, Edd, and Eddy generation."

He actually cracked a short laugh at that.

"Man, I love those guys. Netflix is the best." He took up the remote and started flipping channels. "Let me know if you spot something interesting."

For a while, we sat there in comfortable silence, sometimes lingering on documentaries about medival Chinese wars, then to a weird soap opera where the plot went nowhere and we got a good chuckle from that, then cartoons again, then weird sci-fi movies.

He stopped at a news channel.

" _A man suspected for the molestation and murder of 11 boys was arrested last night in critical condition, though the doctors report he should recover just fine. We are told it was actually a female college student who was the one to take him down, though questions of breaking and entering as well as shooting and disabling a man are being overlooked due to the horrible nature of the murders in question."_

Both of us grew still and quiet. They went on with the story about it starting with a priest calling in the famous Oliver David to look into some spiritual disturbances that could have been attributed to a haunting. When they got to the finding of the eleven bodies in the angel statues, Chance took hold of my hand and squeezed it.

"That twelfth statue would have been me," he murmured.

"But it isn't," I said, reaching for a little box of milk.

"Only because you came."

Milk acquired, I looked back to find the boy, possible four or five years my junior, looking at me with an intensity that paralyzed me.

"You didn't question it," he continued. "You just pointed and shot that bastard. You didn't judge me. You didn't…hesitate. You just suspected I was there and you came running."

He brought my hand to his chest, closing his eyes as he embraced it, then lifted it to his mouth and kissed my knuckles so lightly, it could have been just a caress of wind.

And he had started to shake. He blinked hard, even as he wiped at his eyes as covertly as possible.

"Mai," he breathed, voice thick. "I'm…damaged because of him, and…I don't have much to offer. But…but I'm good at school and strong, and I could become anything you want. I'd be sure to grow up fast for you." And he looked up at me with his watering, bright eyes. They were a beautiful brown, I found. The kind that absorbed in the sunlight from the window and turned lovely golden bronze, edged with ebony. "So…so…"

He was hugging my hand to his chest again, and I could feel him trembling.

"Would you…would you marry me?"

Out of all the things I had expected of this boy, a proposal had not even been in the same universe.

Thus, with no preparation, I could only gape.

When I finally did find my voice, background by the women still narrating our tale, I said, "Chance, you barely know me."

"But I know your compassion," he said, and the thickness gave way to a deep passion I didn't know a boy his age was capable of. "I know of your sense of justice, I know of your sensitive heart, your delicacy, your determination, your bravery. I saw the all the moment you came into that room and everything that followed after that." His eyes held mine fast, eyebrows arching. "You never want to hurt anyone. And you would do anything to protect those who are hurting."

I could feel my eyes burning with new tears. A fragile, raw part of me that hadn't been ready to be touched had been brought into the light. In it I felt very small, very frail, and very, very dirty.

I covered my tearing eyes with my hands. "Why did a man like him even have to exist?"

"Because people suck."

I had to laugh at that, as watery and weak as it sounded.

Then I felt warm, soft fingers brushing away the tears that had escaped from my hands.

"Mai, I'm alive because of you," he whispered. "And if you let me, I'll happily give it to you. I can't imagine ever finding a girl that could surpass you. And if you need a cherry on top, you're really, really cute."

I sniffed hard and lowered my hands, as he did as well. "I was hoping for something more beautiful and sexy, but I guess I can settle."

The smile he gave me reminded me instantly of the one John had given me. Tender and soft, as though I was precious and cared for.

"Would you wait for me?" he asked.

I looked at him for a moment longer, taking in the features, already handsome now, but which would be gorgeous once he grew into his own. The bright, amber brown eyes. The softness of his hands

Then I looked down at the hand he still held captive.

"How about this," I said. "I…I already got my sights on someone, but they're really out of league and totally not interested in dating, so…so if things don't work with him, I can be all yours. Does that sound okay?"

I expected him to be offended by that, but instead his smile broadened.

"Is it a promise?" he asked.

And in that golden lit room, with the soft murmur of the television as soothing background noise, I could feel no suspicion, no alarm. Just peace andsecurity. Something deep within me whispered that I could trust him. That this boy, this young, injured, scarred boy, was good and sincere in every word he said. That I could trust him. That he'd be kind.

"It's a promise," I said, and we twined pinkies without even thinking.

He beamed, something I thought he'd never be able to do after all he had gone through.

"Sweet! In that case, tell me about this guy? I need to start sabotaging."

I laughed, and it was the first one that reached down to the cold knot in my stomach.


	13. A Chance and Twizzler threats

**Thank you for reminding me. My original intention when I became an author was to create stories that gave one the feeling of being snuggled up by a warm fire while a good friend tells them a story. Like when all my siblings and sometimes friends would gather on my bedroom floor with blankets and fall asleep as I'd tell them stories. Unless it was a horror story, of course.**

 **I guess...I, like the rest of you, get caught up in rough spots and start to wish my writing did more for my family. I want to do good by them, my boys. I want to be of help. I want to build something beautiful around them. But here I am...so anxiety ridden because of my pregnancy and just plain pregnant that it takes almost all my energy in a day to just do dishes or fold laundry, and then my husband has to come home after a long day of work to find me hiding in a blanket, afraid to eat food. If only I could...not be this way. If only I could do something so he wouldn't have to work so hard with so little results. If only I could feel like...like I'm taking care of the ones who give me heaven. So stressed. He tries so hard.**

 **And all I can do...is write.**

13

I was given the option of leaving the hospital that same day, if I wanted to. The doctor had been mostly concerned about my mental health, as it had been pretty clear that I had been traumatized. He sent a counselor to do some talking with me, but I'm not sure what it did. Talk, get it out in the open, repeatedly say you're okay and all that, but it didn't change the fact that I still hadn't gotten to see if my friends were alive.

It was Chance, in his pained sort of wobble-walk, that finally pulled me out of the hospital room.

"Forget those nags," he said. "If you want to see them so badly, we're seeing them. Besides, I need a good look at my rival."

" I'm just impressed that you can say that with a straight face without an ounce of embarrassment."

"You kind of build a tolerance to humiliation when an ugly as fuck, grown-ass man keeps tearing down your pants or stuffing his dick into your mouth."

That shut me up. I had felt what that was like, and was not eager to let those memories do a Rick Roll with my brain.

He found the room easily enough (nurses were surprisingly easy to sway). Takigawa and Professor Davis were in separate rooms, due to the difference in their injuries, but Chance all but marched to that of my professor the moment he saw the conflict in my eyes. When he had gotten a chance to read me so well, only God could tell.

To my immense relief, Naru was awake. He put down some sort of "Modern Physics" magazine down as we entered.

"Why haven't you gone home yet?" he asked.

I could feel more than see Chance wince. But I knew how to handle my professor.

"Good to see you too," I said, sniffing. "I wanted to make sure my only parapsychology professor hadn't died."

"No thanks to you and those stupid priests pressuring me into it," he growled, flicking open his magazine. "Thanks for shooting the bad guy, you were right, of all surprises, thanks for keeping pressure on my shoulder and saving the day. I still expect a decent report after this."

Chance gave a low whistled, which attracted Naru's grumpy glare.

"Here I thought I'd have it rough, but this is gonna be a piece a cake. You're a real asshole, aren't you?"

Naru narrowed his eyes. "And you're a baby clinging to Mai like a lost puppy. Your point?"

Chance shrugged. "Nothing. Keep at it. All the better for me." He turned to me. "To your other friend, then?"

I hesitated, the uneasiness in my heart still twinging. I drew closer to get a better look of him, to which Naru didn't comment. He allowed me to take in the hospital gown, the signs of bandages along his side, and still with that scarlet eyes from being strangled. I checked the IVs (he had multiples), the machines, the color of his skin.

"When you are satisfied—" but he didn't finish as I put my forehead to his uninjured shoulder and hugged his arm.

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. And that I sent us in so recklessly." I couldn't help the tightening of my throat.

He didn't answer to that right away. Probably because he was at a lack of what to say.

But, finally, I felt his warm hand atop my head.

"You liked that white sweater, didn't you?"

I nodded and his hand began a gentle pat.

"You did fine," he said, gruff, but somehow gentle. "You did well. You saved lives when you could have just sat safely in the van when I told you to. That being said, please don't make a habit of this. I still need—"

"Your first generation prodigy to be impressive and on top of everything, not half dead or, even worse, incompetent." I nodded. "Will do, Professor."

"Then go away and see to Takigawa already." Naru's eyes slid to the boy watching all this very carefully. "You have something that you should tell him, and perhaps the kid following you too."

I slapped him lightly across his head. "My life, not yours."

To that, he just grunted, and Chance and I left.

"What do you see in that guy?" he asked. "Besides a pretty face, I suppose. I mean, he's a completely ungrateful grouch and—"

"There's more to it than that," I said dismissively.

"Not to mention bossy. He seems like the controlling, manipulative type."

"And perhaps he is."

"How can you say that so lightly?"

I shrugged. "Probably because I'm still very numb everywhere. Or probably because I stopped caring a while back. After all, it's not like I'm the most eligible bachelorette in his eyes. I don't know if he even likes girls." I didn't want to mention the time he had more or less whispered to me of the girl he would never try for, due to his own faults and insecurities.

Takigawa was still out cold when we entered his room. His head had been wrapped to the point of almost a turban and an extra monitor stood beside his bed to measure his brainwaves.

I touched his hand, told him if he didn't wake up I'd stuff his nostrils with Chocolate Twizzlers, to which, happily he gave a low groan of protest to, but otherwise stayed as he was. When I left, I felt more emotionally worn than I had in my entire life.

"Chance?" I asked.

He stifled his giggles from my Twizzler threat. "Yeah Mai?"

"If you're parents are coming to get you…do you think they'd mind giving me a ride home too?"

"Of course they won't mind. You did find me."

And when they arrived, I found what Chance said to be an understatement. Many tears, many squeezes I could hardly breathe past, and then a homemade quilt to keep out any leftover cold since my sweater had been tossed and snow still fluttered around outside. I must have been more tired than I thought, for I soon tipped over onto Chance's shoulder and fell asleep.

Everything was okay. Everything would be okay. It was over. Takigawa would wake up and Naru would recover. And something about Chance put me more at ease than anyone I had ever known, probably because he was still a kid and therefore I didn't feel threatened by that.

Either way, I needed to curl up in my mama's worn, Navajo blanket.


	14. Burrito Blanket of Bliss

**This is my second update for today, so make sure you don't miss chapter 13.**

14

Four days later, I was still in my mama's old comforter, playing old nostalgic video games and occasionally rereading my favorite dark fantasy novel. Most of the time I just munched on whatever was easy, like carrots and jerky and cold cereal. I kept my blinds closed and gave the excuse to my professors that I was sick, and did my assignments at home.

Ayako occasionally checked on me, looking concerned, but otherwise I kept my door locked and tried to be as quiet as possible.

But, come the ending of the fourth day of my self-imposed banishment, Ayako opened the door and I could hear surprise in her voice. Before I could catch the sound of the visitor, there was a pounding on my door that made me jump.

"Let me in or I'll pass out on your door."

A chill shot up my spine. "If that's the case, shouldn't you be in the hospital still?"

He snorted. "Flesh wound. Now open. I walked here with half a pint of blood still in my body and deserve a proper welcome."

Behind him, I heard Ayako make a crossed between a snicker and a whistle.

Heaving the mandatory sigh at such an invasion, I rolled to my feet and opened the door, fully aware that I hadn't dressed out of pajamas or done my hair in forever. I bathed, yeah, but that's because paths and showers were relaxing, and the smell of mom's coconut shampoo soothed me.

I glared at him with narrow eyes. He had his arm in a sling, though his black suit coat jacket covered up the bandages that most likely coated his shoulders.

"Whaddya want? I'm in the middle of physics right now."

"Are you going to let me in?"

"To my maidenly bedroom? Never. Who knows what perverted monster you're hiding beneath that grouchy face of yours."

He rolled his eyes, then looked back at Ayako sharply, who's giggles had grown to a storm.

"Oh! Sorry,sorry," she said. "I'll just make myself scarce, yeah? Mai's used up all our milk anyways."

"Moo." I grouched.

And then my professor and I were alone in the apartment. There was no real excuse to keep him out of my bedroom now.

"Fine," I just turned, leaving the door partially opened. As I made my way to my bed, I picked up my mother's comforter and curled up in it on my worn, navy blue sheets. I had abandoned my physics text book somewhere by my pillow.

He took more time than I cared for examining my room.

"It's just as you described," he said, sounding slightly surprised.

"Yes yes, now what do you want?"

He turned his eyes to me, which had blessedly healed to an almost unnoticeable light pink.

"Holing yourself up in your room isn't going to make the trauma any better," he said. "You need to get out. Keep trying to live as normally as you can."

I snorted. "Who made you boss of me?"

"I say it out of concern. I have some measure of learning in this area, and my own fair share of traumas."

"Well, I'm not you. Never could be." But since I didn't exactly dislike his presence in his room (stupid stinking crush), I pulled my blanket over my head and essentially turned myself into a mound of warm, dark Mai flesh.

I heard an all too familiar sigh before the meanie started tugging at an edge of my blanket. I hissed at him like a cat, but rather than throwing off my blanket entirely, he kicked off his shoes and crawled into the blanket cave too, which turned warm to hot.

"Fine, if you won't talk to me out there," he said softly. "Mai…I'm worried."

"That I'll go nutso and go on a killing spree?"

"No. That this will be you for the rest of your life. Hiding, frightened, unsure—and whatever else, I'm not a psychologist."

"Funny, I thought you were everything."

"Being a good parapsychologist is about knowing enough of everything, not knowing everything."

"Could have fooled me."

His smell alone had already soothed a great deal of me. Leather. Something spicy and distinctly male. Since he was already there, and because he should have expected it anyways slipping into a girls burrito cave like this, I found his lap and adjusted so I could put my head onto his thigh.

"Maybe you should stop bossing me around," I murmured, quickly growing sleepy. "And just be my pillow. You're a nice smelling pillow, it makes me feel better already." I yawned, growing heavier. "And if the campus patrol finds you snuggled up in a student's bed you'll get your just deserts for breaking in."

"I did not break in."

"'Oh, I'm gonna faint," I said in the manliest voice I could I manage.

"I was. It takes a while for the body to replace so much lost blood."

"Yeah yeah, you should probably take a nap because of that too."

"Mai…."

But whatever he had to say was lost to me, because I had already drifted deep enough to not care. It didn't help that I had been a freaking insomniac the past few days. Blood just kept cropping into my head.

But I did register when he shifted to lay besides me, taking away my thigh pillow, and instead put a hand through my hair.

"Then, if this is what you need…"

Ahh, sleep. Finally, sleepity sleep. Nothing could hurt us here. I could smell Mom in her blanket and Naru besides me.

"Chance is gonna marry me," I mumbled, right on the edge of unconsciousness.

"Oh? You go for younger guys?"

"I promised him I would," I snuggled into the warmth which was some part of Naru I was too sleepy to classify. "If I didn't get you."

And with that, I was out.


End file.
